|
The foe
does not simply down a Scot
Whom he’s bested in a fight
Must give him everything he’s got
Cleave with all his might!
Otherwise
the Gael’s back in battle
Afore the cock crows at dawn
Soon as he’s seen after his cattle
Cared for his wounds on the lawn!
Unknown
the numbers suffered this fate
Thinking to have the day
Though long as there’s life and he in a state
The Scot will have a say!
Sure there
are times it favors the foe
Blood spilled that of his own
Unthinkable laid permanently low
Not defend to the death his home!
Far too
long he’s bled on this ground
From axe, sword, and gun
To ever quit, run from the mound
Hear enemy exult he’s won! |
