The pipes shrill out their epic story
of English shame and Scottish glory
so we might travel too arrive
back in time to the '45
of clansmen tall I tell the tale
who marched on London to no avail
from Glenfinnan to Culloden Moor
where bayonets flash and cannons roar
a breed of men who were never to own
a Scottish King on an English throne
and all that remains of this today
are empty crofts and livestock that stray
so hark to the pipes and if tears you would weep
shed them for Scotland, and not for the sheep!
of English shame and Scottish glory
so we might travel too arrive
back in time to the '45
of clansmen tall I tell the tale
who marched on London to no avail
from Glenfinnan to Culloden Moor
where bayonets flash and cannons roar
a breed of men who were never to own
a Scottish King on an English throne
and all that remains of this today
are empty crofts and livestock that stray
so hark to the pipes and if tears you would weep
shed them for Scotland, and not for the sheep!
