| One of the largest collections of Scottish Ballads & Scots Folk Songs, lyrics, celtic music and downloads available on the internet. |
| Traditional Celtic Music, Scottish Songs & Border Ballads |
| Scots' musician, songwriter, & balladeer. |
| Hazel Whyte |
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| Scots' Music |
| Misguided Missile And Misguided Miss |
| A simple brief thought on Scottish Independance. Were the outdated union not of some very high value to England and the English, why would they fight so to try to keep it? There are only so many slices to a pie, for one to have more, another must have less. Lastly - to those Scottish "Loyalists" - to whom are you loyal? Scots royalty died in the 1700's so it can be no Scots crown - And certainly not it appears to those who came before, that bled for Scotland and her freedom ! |
| In the words of Burns, as he wrote from the heart. Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victorie. Now's the day, and now's the hour; See the front o' battle lour; See approach proud Edward's power, Chains and slaverie. Wha would be a traitor-knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a Slave? Let him turn and flie: Wha for Scotland's king and law, Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Free-man stand, or free-man fa', Let him follow me. By Oppression's woes and pains! By your Sons in servile chains! We will drain our dearest veins, But they shall be free! Lay the proud Usurpers low! Tyrants fall in every foe! Liberty's in every blow! Let us Do - or Die!!! Choose your destiny. |
| While you wet your whistle, whistle I'll sing you this O' the misguided missile and the misguided miss The maid she was young and pretty, she came doon frae the city Was a hell of a pity that she left auld Glesga toon She met a son of Uncle Sammy frae the heart of Alabamy Who'd never left his mammy till he came doon tae Dunoon In his wee bit sailor's suitie, och, he looked so brave and smart At the Battle of the Holy Loch he won a Purple Heart Since he's been overseas, five medals and six stars And for drinkin' your Johnnie Walker he's collecting extra bars He said he'd like to thank her for the moments on the shore Said his daddy was a banker, so she loved him more and more He really was a ranker by the rings upon his sleeve She wanted rings on her finger, but he was just on leave He was drinking Scotch and scooch, then he went back on board He turned the key - then whoosh! and cries, and Help ma, Bob(?) Lord(?) Says he, I'm so embarrassed, we'll no be goin' to Paris I've launched the first Polaris through bein' a drunken sod Now there's a hell of a fuss aboard the Proteus And the lassie's on the shore by the point o' Lazarus And she's cryin', Hush-a-bawbee, you'll see your daddy soon When the clouds all drift away, for he's the first Yank on the moon |
| Tab/Sheet Music As Available |