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
Scots' Music
Twelve And A Tanner
A Bottle
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Were the outdated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.
Tab/Sheet Music
As Available
Chorus:
It's twelve and a tanner a bottle
That's what it's costin' today
Twelve and a tanner a bottle
Man it tak's a' your pleasure away
Afore ye can hae a wee drappie
You have to spend a' that you've got
How can a fella be happy
When happiness costs such a lot

It's really high time something is done
To alter the way the country is run
They're no daein' things the way that they should
Just take for instance the price of the food

There's taxes on this, taxes on that
While the people grow lean, the officials grow fat
You have to admit it's a bit underhand
Puttin' a tax on the breath of the land

I used to meet old pals o' mine
When whisky was cheap, went doon like wine
Noo I don't see them I'm sorry to tell
I slip roon' the corner and drink by masel'