Dirty white caravans down narrow roads sailing Vivas, Cortinas, weaving in their wake With hot, red-faced drivers, horns' flattened fifths wailing Putting trust in blind corners as they overtake
And it's "Oh, come willing now Spend a shilling now Stack up the back of your new motor car" There's home-dyed woollens And wee plastic Cuillins The day of the Broadford Bazaar
Out of the north, no oil rigs are drifting And jobs for the many are down to the few Blue-bottle choppers, they visit no longer Like flies to the jampots, they were just passing through
And it's "Oh, come willing now Spend a shilling now Stack up the back of your new motor car" Where once stood oil rigs so phallic There's only swear words in Gaelic To say at the Broadford Bazaar
All kinds of people come down for the opening Crofters and cottars, white settlers galore And up on the hill, there's an old sheep that's dying But it had two new lambs born just a fortnight before
And it's "Oh, come willing now Spend a shilling now Stack up the back of your new motor car" We'll take pounds, francs and dollars from the well-heeled And stamps from the Green Shield The day of the Broadford BazaarTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
