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Oh, how they
played up to us,
all the heartstrings being pulled, yellow and red, purple and blue,
Our music and poetry, football and culture,
but songs that no-one knew.
Writers,
inventors, what a great people we are,
except for when Scotland’s up for grabs, ha, ha, ha.
When she
sang Rabbie’s words and they all joined in
our hearts did too,
It was us, it was Scotland,
I was draped in a flag of St.Andrew’s blue.
We love a
song, a singalong,
with comrades together, all equal and free,
We’re able to sing, and we hope to join in,
just to be a part of a new every…thing.
But did
anyone catch what was really going on ?
Everyone
there picked up a paper and looked at the words.
it made me spew, ‘cause they didn’t have a clue,
But they certainly all new, how to win us anew.
It was
planned…………It was planned,
“oh lets hold a hand”
“we’ll show our Scottishness as a merry old band”.
They played
for us…….
Songs that
no-one knew
These are the
people who work for a foreign government
in our land,
Trying to tell me that having a Scottish parliament
is right and grand.
Funny isn’t
it, that when us Scots are screaming,
“for independence” we’ve been dreaming.
They throw us a teaser,
Oh, give me a breather.
Brought and delivered and after our votes,
that are signed and sealed with those dumb English notes.
Get rid of
them.
This is not
freedom for the Glen,
This is England keeping us quiet again.
And again,
and again, and again.
Copyright: Ian Roberts 2003 |
