| 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 |
| Weavers |
| 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 Were the outdated union not of some very high value to England and the English, why would they fight so to try to keep it?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: But the eighteen-twenty declaration Will live to show the world our aim No shield of silence can e'er prevent it The common rights o' man proclaim Fareweel tae you, my ain dear loved ones My life is pledged to the weavers' cause 'Tis better to die in the fight for freedom Than suffer the hardship of rich men's laws Fo all around us are rogues and traitors Though they be kinsmen of Scottish lords And in our numbers the king's own agents Have sacrificed us to rifle and sword And no more I'll see the green banks o' the Leven For Australia's rocky shore I am bound My sentence is to be transported And there my weary life to end And although the hangman's noose has spared me It's cruel comfort my life will be When I think upon my wife and children No more, no more again to see |