Tracks:
Raomin’ In The Gloamin’
Wee Deoch ‘N Doris
The Scotsman
The Skye Boat Song
Bonnie Dundee
I Love A Lassie (Medley)
Massacre At Glencoe
Rowan Tree
Farewell To Nova Scotia
Dumbarton’s Drums
Pipes In The Glen
Credits:
Alex Beaton – vocals, guitar
Howard Yearwood – guitar, banjo
Carol Yearwood – bass
Candy Leamon, Robin Lorentz – fiddle
Dane Little -
(Sir Harry Lauder)
I've seen many a bonnie lassies travellin' far and wide,
But my heart is centered now on bonnie Kate McBride,
And though I'm not the kind of man to throw my words away,
I'm surprised mysel' at times at a' I've got to say-
Roamin' in the gloamin', on the bonnie banks o' the Clyde,
Roamin' in the gloamin' wi' ma lassie by ma side,
When the sun has gone to rest, that's the time we like best,
Oh it's lovely roamin' in the gloamin'!
Last night after strolling we got hame at half past nine.
Sittin' at the kitchen fire, I asked her to be mine.
When she promised, I got up and danced the Highland fling;
I've just been tae the jewellers and I bacht a nice wee ring.
There's a good old Scottish custom that has stood the test o' time,
It's a custom that's been carried out in every land and clime.
When brother Scots are gathered, it's aye the usaul thing,
Just before we say good night, we fill our cups and sing...
Just a wee deoch `n doris, just a wee drop, that's all.
Just a wee deoch `n doris afore ye gang awa.
There's a wee wifie waitin' in a wee but an’ ben.
If you can say, "It's a braw, bricht, moonlicht nicht",
Then yer a' richt, ye ken.
Now I like a man that is a man; a man that's straight and fair.
The kind of man that will, and can, in all things do his share.
Och, I like a man, a jolly man, the kind of man, you know,
The chap that slaps your back and says, "Jock, just before ye go"
Just a wee deoch `n doris, just a wee drop, that's all.
Just a wee deoch `n doris afore ye gang awa’.
There's a wee wifie waitin' in a wee but an’ ben.
If you can say, "it's a fine, bright, moonlight night,"
Then you're all right, you know
Mike Cross
Well a Scotsman clad in kilt left the bar on evening fair
And one could tell by how we walked he’d drunk more than his share
He fumbled round until he could no longer keep his feet
Then he stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street
Ring ding diddle iddle addey oh, ring di diddley aye oh
He stumbled off beside the grass to sleep beside the street
Now, about that time two young and lovely girls just happend by
And one said to the other with a twinkle in her eye
“See yon sleeping Scotsman so strong and handsome built
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt.”
Ring ding diddle iddle addey oh, ring di diddley aye oh
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt.”
They crept up on that sleeping Scotsman quiet as could be,
And they lifted up his kilt about an inch so they could see,
And there, behold, for them to see, beneath his Scottish skirt,
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth
They marveled for a moment, then one said, “We must be gone
Let's leave a present for our friend, before we move along.”
For a gift they left a blue silk ribbon, tied into a bow
And around the bonnie star, the Scots kilt did lift and show.
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
Around the bonnie star, the Scots kilt did lift and show
Well, the Scotsman woke to nature's cause and stumbled towards the trees
And behind a bush, he lift his kilt and gawks at what he sees
And in a startled voice he says to what's before his eyes.
“Ach lad, I don't know where you’ve been but I see you won first prize.”
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
O lad I don't know where you been but I see you won first prize
Chorus:
Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing
“Onwards” the sailors cry.
Carry the lad that is born to be king
Over the sea to Skye
Loud the wind howls, loud the waves roar,
Thunderclaps rend the air
Baffled, our foes stand by the shore; Follow, they will not dare
Chorus
Many's the lad fought on that day
Well the claymore could wield
When the night came, silently lay,
Dead on Culloden’s field
Chorus
Burned are our homes; exile and death
Scatter the loyal men;
Yet, ere the sword cool in the sheath ,
Charlie will come again.
Chorus
To the lords of convention ‘twas Claverhouse spoke
“Ere the ling’s crown shall fall, there are crowns to be broke,
So let each cavalier who loves honour and me, Come follow the bonnets o' bonnie Dundee.
Chorus:
Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,
Come saddle my horses and call out my men,
Unhook the West Port and let us gae free,
For it’s up wi’ the bonnets o' bonnie Dundee!
Dundee, he is mounted and rides up the street,
The bells, they ring backwards, the drums they are beat,
But the Provost’s douce-
For the town is well rid o’ that devil, Dundee."
Chorus
There are hills beyond Pentland and lands beyond Forth,
Be there lords in the south, there are chiefs in the North.
There are brave Duinnewassals three thousand times three,
Cry, hey for the bonnets o' bonnie Dundee.
Chorus
Then awa' tae the hills, to the caves and the rocks;
Ere I own a usurper, I'll couch wi' the fox!
And tremble false Whigs, in the midst o' your glee,
For you’ve not seen the last o' my bonnets and me.
Chorus
I love a lassie, a bonnie bonnie lassie,
She’s as pure as a lily in the dell.
And she’s as sweet as the heather,
The bonnie purple heather,
Mary, my Scots bluebell.
Oh, ye cannae shove yer granny off the bus.
Oh, ye cannae shove yer granny off the bus.
Oh, ye cannae shove yer granny.
For she’s our mammy’s many,
Ye cannae shove yer granny off the bus.
But ye can shove yer other granny off the bus,
Aye can shove yer other granny off the bus,
You can shove yer other granny
For she’s your faither’s mammy,
Shove yer other granny off the bus.
I've been with a few o' ma cronies,
One or two pals o' ma ain
We went in tae a hotel and we did very well ,
Then we came oot once again.
Aye, and then we went in tae another,
And that is the reason I'm fu' .
We had six deoch an' dorises, then sang a chorus
Just listen, I'll sing it to you
I belong tae Glasgow, dear old Glasgow toon
But there’s something the matter wi’ Glasgow
For it's going roon an’ roon.
I'm only a common old working chap, as anyone here can see
But when I get a couple o’ drinks on a Saturday
Glasgow belongs to me
Hark, when the night is falling
Hear, hear the pipes are calling
Loudly and proudly calling
Down through the Glen.
There where the hills are sleeping
Now feel the blood a-
High as the spirits
Of the old highland men.
Towering in gallant fame
Scotland my mountain hame
High may your proud standards
Gloriously wave!
Land of my high endeavor
Land of the shining river
Land of my heart forever
Scotland the brave!
High in the misty highlands
Out by the purple islands
Brave are the hearts that beat
Beneath Scottish skies
Wild are the winds to meet you
Staunch are the friends that greet you
Kind as the light that shines
From fair maiden's eyes.
Chorus:
Oh, cruel is the snow that sweeps Glencoe
And covers the grave o' Donald
Oh, cruel was the foe that raped Glencoe
And murdered the house o' MacDonald
They came in a blizzard, we offered them heat
A roof o’er their heads, dry shoes for their feet.
We wined them and dined them, they ate of our meat
And the slept in the house of MacDonald
They came from Fort William with murder in mind
The Campbell had orders, King William had signed;
“Put all to the sword”, these words underlined,
“And leave none alive called MacDonald.”
Chorus
They came in the night when our men were asleep.
This band of Argylls, through snow soft and deep.
Like murdering foxes among helpless sheep,
They slaughtered the house o' MacDonald
Chorus
Some died in their beds at the hands of the foe,
Some fled in the night and were lost in the snow.
Some lived to accuse hlm who struck the first blow,
But gone was the house of MacDonald.
Chorus
Oh rowan tree, oh rowan tree,
Thou’ll aye be dear tae me,
Entwined thou art wi' mony ties
Of hame and infancy.
Thy leaves were aye the first o' spring,
Thy flowers, the simmer's pride.
There was nae sic a bonnie tree
In a’ the country side.
Oh rowan tree.
How fair wert thou in simmer time,
Wi' all thy clusters white;
Now rich and gay thy autumn dress,
Wi' berries red and bright.
On thy fair stem were mony names
Which now nae mair I see.
But they’re engraven’d on my heart,
Forgot they ne'er can be.
Oh rowan tree.
We sat Beneath thy spreading shade,
The bairnies round thee ran.
They pulled the bonnie berries red
And necklaces they strang.
My mither, oh, I see her still,
She smiled, our sports tae see,
Wi' little Jeannie on her lap
And Jamie at her knee.
Oh rowan tree.
Oh, there arose my father's prayer
In holy evening's calm.
How sweet was then my mither's voice
In the “Martyr's Psalm”.
Now all are gone, we met nae mair
Aneath the rowan tree,
But hallowed thoughts around thee twine
O' hame and infancy,
Oh rowan tree.
Farewell to Nova Scotia, you sea bound coast
Let your mountains dark and dreary be
For when I am far away o’er the ocean briny tossed
Will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me?
The sun was setting in the West
The birdies sang on every tree
Old nature seemed inclined for ta rest
But still it is never a rest for me
Chorus
I grieve to leave my native land,
I grieve to leave my comrades all,
And my parents that I held so well
And the bonnie, bonnie lassie that I do adore.
Chorus
The drums they do beat and the wars do roar,
Our captain calls and we must obey
So farewell to Nova Scotia and all of it's charm
It's early in the morning I’m far, far away.
Chorus:
Dumbarton's drums, they sound sae bonnie,
When they remind me o' my Jeannie;
Such fond delight can steal upon me
When Jeannie kneels and sings me.
Across the fields of bounding heather,
Dumbarton tolls the hour of pleasure;
A song of love that has no measure,
When Jeannie kneels and sings to me.
Chorus
'Tis she alone who can delight me,
As gracefully she doth invite me;
And when her tender arms enfold me,
The blackest night doth turn and flee.
Chorus
When Jeannie kneels and kisses me.
Twas in the summer of ’45,
The Young Pretender did arrive
And the misty highlands came alive
At Glenfinnan, by the loch-
The Royal standard soon was raised.
With power and charm he set ablaze
The chieftains hearts to join the fray,
Oh Scotia, the lions roar.
Chorus:
And we’ll march in the name of brave Charlie.
Hear the cries o’ the highland men.
Should we stand as one, we’ll march in the sun
To the sound o’ the pipes in the glen,
To the sound o’ the pipes in the glen.
With claymores drawn against the crown,
Jacobites stood on higher ground.
As Charlie spoke there was ne’er a sound,
‘Cept the rustle of the heather floor.
Then a roar went up for the rightful king
And the courage that his words could bring.
So voices through the years could sing
Of Charlie forevermore.
Chorus
