Rock the wind in the clear day's dawning Blows the cloud's heels for gaudie o'er the bay But there's mair nor a rough wind blowing Through the great glen o' the world a'day It's a thought that will garrow rottens 'thae rogues that ken Gallar's fresh and gay Tak'the road and see Gallar loanins For they're ill 'ployed tae sport and play
Nae mair would the bonny Callans March tae war when our braggarts crousely craw Nor wee weans frae parteen and clachan Mourn the ships sailing doon the broomielaw Broken faimlies in lands we've herriet Will curse Scotland the brave nae mair, nae mair Black and white ane til ither mairriet Mak'the vile barracks o'their masters bare
So come all ye at hame wi'freedom Never heed what the huddies croak for doom In your hoose a'their bairns o'Adam Will find bread, barley bread and painted boon When MacLean meets wi'his frien's in Springburn A'tnae roses and geens will turn tae bloom And the black boy frae off Nyanga Ding the fell gallows o'the burghers'doomTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
