Tracks:
Kirkconnel Lee
Ae Fond Kiss
There Grows A Bonie Brier-Bush
Bonie Wee Thing
Corn Rigs
Ye Jacobites by Name
The Wild Geese
The Lea Rig
The Gard’ner Wi’ His Paidle
A Man's A Man For A' That
Ca’ the Yowes
The Shearin’s No For You
Green Grow the Rashes, Oh!
Credits:
Alex Beaton –Guitar, Vocals
David Chamberlain – Guitar, Bass,
Mandolin, Keyboards
Alasdair Fraser – Fiddle
Richard McIlvery – Bass, Pedal Steel
Randy Farrar – Synthesizer
Donnie MacDonald – Mandolin
Neil Manderson - Piper

O that I were where Helen lies
Night and day on me she cries
O that I were where Helen lies
In fair Kirkconnel lee
O Helen fair beyond compare
A ringlet of thy flowing hair
I’ll wear it still for ever mair
Until the day I die

Curs’d be the hand that shot the shot
And curs’d the gun that gave the crack
Into my arms bird Helen lap
And died for sake of me
Think ye na but my heart was sair
My love fell down and spake nae mair
There did she swoon we meikle care.
On fair Kirkconnel tee
I lighted down my sword did draw
I cutted him in tae pieces sma’
I cutted him in tae pieces sina’
On fair Kirkconnel lee
O Helen chaste, thou’rt now at rest
If I were thee I were blest
Where thou lies low and take thy rest
On fair Kirkconnel lee
I wish my grave was growing green
A winding sheet put o’er my e’en
And I in lichen’s arm lying
In fair Kirkconnel lee
I wish 1 were where Helen lies
Night and day on me she cries
O that I were where Helen lies
In fair Kirkconnel lee


And below the bonnie bier-hush there’s a lassie and a lad,
Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing,
It was upon a Lammas night,
When corn rigs are bonnie,
Beneath the moons unclouded light,
I held away to Annie;
The time flew by, wi’ tentless heed,
Till, ‘tween the late and early,
Wi’ sma’ persuasion she agreed
To see me thro the barley
Chorus:
Corn rigs, an’ barley rigs,
An’ corn rigs are bonie:
I’ll ne’er forget that happy night,
Amang the rigs wi Annie.
The sky was blue, the Wind was still,
The moon was shining clearly;
I set her down, wi’ right good will,
Amang the rigs o’ barley.
Chorus
I ken‘t her heart was a’ my ain
I lov’d her most sincerely;
I kiss’d her owre and owre again,
Amang the rigs o’ barley
1 lock’d her in my fond embrace;
Her heart was beating rarely:
My blessings on that happy place,
Amang the rigs o barley!
Chorus
But by the moon and stars so bright,
That shone that hour so clearly!
She aye shall bless that happy night
Amang the rigs o barley.
I hae been blythe wi’ comrades dear;
I hae been merry drinking;
1 hae been joyfu’ gath’rin gear;
I hae been happy thinking.
Chorus
But a’ the pleasures e’er I saw,
Tho’ three times doubl’d fairly,
That happy night was worth them a’,
Among the rigs o’ barley.

Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear, lend an ear,
Aye, Wind, I ken them well eneuch and fine they fa’ and rise,

The gard’ner wi’ his paidle.
Is there for honest poverty
That hangs his head, an' a' that?
The coward slave, we pass him by
We dare be poor for a' that!
For a' that, an' a' that!
Our toil’s obscure, an' a' that,
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that.
What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin grey an' a' that?
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine
A man's a man for a' that.
For a' that, an' a' that,
Their tinsel show, an' a' that,
The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor,
Is king o' men for a' that.
Ye see yon birkie ca'd 'a lord',
Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that?
Tho' hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof for a' that,
For a' that, an' a' that,
His ribband, star, an' a' that,
The man o' independent mind,
He looks an' laughs at a' that.
A prince can mak’ a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, an' a' that!
But an honest man's aboon his might
Gude faith, he mauna fa' that!
For a' that, an' a' that,
Their dignities, an' a' that,

For a' that, an' a' that,
Their dignities, an' a' that,
The pith o' sense an' pride o' worth
Are higher rank than a' that.
Then let us pray that come it may
As come it will for a' that)
That Sense and Worth o'er a' the earth,
Shall bear the gree an' a' that,
For a' that, an' a' that,
It's comin yet for a' that,
That man to man the world oe'r
Shall brithers be for a' that.

Chorus:
Ca’ the yowes to the knowes,
Ca’ them where the heather grows,
Ca’ them where the burnie rowes,
My bonnie dearie.
Hark, the mavis evening sang
Sounding Clouden’s woods amang
Then a-faulding let us gang.
My bonnie dearie.
We’ll gae down by Clouden side,
Thro the hazels, spreading wide
O’er the waves that sweetly glide
To the moon sae clearly.
Yonder Clouden’s silent towers
Where, at moonshine’s midnight hours,
O’er the dewy bending flowers
Fairies dance sae cheery.
Fair and lovely as thou art
Thou has stown my very heart
I can die — but canna part
My bonnie dearie,

Tak the buckles frae yer shoon ma bonnie lassie O
Tak the buckles frae yer shoon ma bonnie lassie O
Tak the buckles frae ver shoon for ye’ve married sic a loon
And yer dancin’ days are done ma bonnie lassie O
Take the ribbons frae yer hair ma bonnie lassie O
Tak the ribbons frae yer halt ma bonnie lassie O
Tak the ribbons frae yer hair and let doun yer ringlets fair
For ye’ve naught but want an care ma bonnie lassie 0
Oh the shearin’s no for you ma bonnie lassie O
Oh the shearin’s no for you ma bonnie lassie O
Oh the shearin’s no for you for yer back in winna bow
And yer belly’s rowan fu ma bonnie lassie O

Chorus:
Green grow the rashes, O!
Green grow the rashes, O!
The sweetest hour that ever I spend,
Are spent among the lasses, O!
There's naught but care on ev'ry han',
In ev’ry hour that passes, O!
What signifies the life o' man
If ‘twere na for the lasses, O?
Chorus
The war’ly race may riches chase,
And riches may fly them, O!
And tho at last they catch them fast,
Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O!
Chorus
But gie me a cannie hour at ev’n,
My arms around my dearie, O!
An' war’ly cares, and warldly men,
May a’ gae tapsalteerie, O!
Chorus
For you sae douce ye sneer at this,
Ye're not but senseless asses, O!
The wisest man the warl' e’er saw
He dearly loved the lasses, O!
Chorus
Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears
Her noblest work she classes, O!
Her 'prentice han’ she tried on man,
An’ then she made the lasses, O!
Chorus