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Traditional Celtic Music, Scottish Songs & Border Ballads
Scots' musician, songwriter, & balladeer.
Hazel Whyte
Scots' Music
The Butcher Boy
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Were the outdated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.
My parents gave me learning, good learning they gave to
me
For they sent me to a butcher's shop a butcher boy to be

It's there I met sweet Mary Ann with the dark and the rovin'
eye
And I promised I would marry her in the month of sweet
July

He went down to her mother's house 'tween the hours of
eight and nine
And he asked her for to walk with him down by the foaming
brine

Down by the foaming brine we'll go, down by the foaming
brine
Now that won't be a pleasant walk, down by the foaming
brine

They walked it east and they walked it west and they
walked it all alone
Till he took a knife from out his breast and he stabbed her
to the ground

She fell upon one bended knee and for mercy she did cry
Oron Willie dear, don't murder me, I'm not prepared to die

He took her by the lily-white hands and he dragged her to
the brim
And with a mighty downward push he threw her body in

He went back to his mother's house 'tween the hours of
twelve and one
And little did his mother think what her only son had done

He asked her for a handkerchief to tie around his head
And he asked her for a candlelight to show him off to bed

No sleep, no rest did the young man get, no rest he could
not find
For he thought he saw the gates of hell approaching his
bedside

For the murder it was soon found out and the gallows was
his doom
For the murdering of sweet Mary Ann who lies where the
roses bloom
Tab/Sheet Music
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