(B.W. Davies MCPS/PRS)

Much of the music that inspired me was not sung by "professionals", but by ordinary folk singing about their lives, or as an escape from their lives. My background is filled with music, the Welsh male voice choirs, which are so much a part of my Father's family tradition, Scottish music that was so important to my Mother, and the folk music I was introduced to in my teens. All those things made an impact that still affects me today. I have written many of my memories into this song and, hopefully, some of yours, too. Featured vocals are from Fiona (whose Auntie Meg sung "An Auld Maid in a Garret"); Sandra and Ross (whose Dad/Papa, respectively, is "aye pullin' yer leg) and Willie and Stuart (whose Dad/singing partner, respectively, was Bill McArthur who "made the rafters ring" with me. (January/March 2003 Glenrothes, Fife)

Every Hogmanay or Gala Day
Jock wad sing and Tam wad play
Wi' a moothie or fiddle or auld six string
An' the songs we used tae sing

There was Jim on the box and Kenny, too
When that pair got gaun, what a hullabaloo
There was hoochin' and dancin' the Highland Fling
And the songs we used tae sing

It was a rare thing when guid folk wad bring
Songs that he'rts and voices could sing
They wad fairly mak yer spirits tak wing
Oh! The songs we used tae sing.

"An Auld Maid in the Garret" fae Auntie Meg
Stories fae Sandy, aye pu'in' yer leg
Bill and Bruce made the rafters ring
Wi the songs we used tae sing

An' auld Mister Currie, his face wad glow
As he sang "Bonnie Scotland" or "Geordie Munro"
Wi' a "Grouse" in his haund he felt like a King
Wi' the songs we used tae sing

It was a rare thing...

"Westering Home", "A Gordon for Me"
"Killiecrankie" and "Bonnie Dundee"
"The Road and the Miles" aye went wi' a swing
Oh! The songs we used tae sing

It was a rare thing...

Oh! The songs we used tae sing.

Copyright ©2003 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(Burns arr. B.W. Davies - MCPS/PRS/Mark Kenneth - Copyright Control)

I first heard this sung by The Corries in the late sixties. They were my first introduction to Scottish folk music. I had thought it strange that Burns, a Jacobite supporter, should write an anti-Jacobite song. However, I found out recently that he was concerned that the Jacobites were picking fights they couldn't win and Burns knew that in cases like that the "high heid yins" were not the ones who would be hurt, but the ordinary people. This accounts for the stance he takes in this song. The tune that follows "Jacobites" was written by my friend and occasional musical collaborator, Mark Kenneth and named after his sister, Fiona. Mark is an amazing "box player" (accordionist) who now lives in Houston, TX and is a member of the Celtic folk/rock band Jiggernaut.

Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear, lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name
Your fau'ts I will proclaim
Your doctrines I maun blame
You will hear, you will hear
Your doctrines I maun, blame you will hear

What is right and what is wrong by the law, by the law?
What is right and what is wrong by the law?
What is right and what is wrong,
A short sword or a long?
A week arm or a strong, for to draw, for to draw
A week arm or a strong, for to draw

Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear...

What makes heroic strife, famed afar, famed afar
What makes heroic strife, famed afar
What makes heroic strife, to whet the assasin's knife
Or haunt a parent's life wi' bloody war, bloody war
Or haunt a parent's life wi' bloody war

Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear...

Then let your schemes alone in the state, in the state
Then let your schemes alone in the state
Then let your schemes alone, adore the rising sun
And leave a man undone to his fate, to his fate
And leave a man undone to his fate

Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear...

Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear...

(Tune - Miss Fiona Kenneth)
Copyright ©2003 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(Trad arr. B.W. Davies - MCPS/PRS)

I learned this song in school and have heard it sung in many different styles since then. It was collected by Marjory Kennedy-Fraser and translated by Rev Kenneth MacLeod and published in the marvellous collection "Songs of the Hebrides", which is a major part of our heritage.

Westering home with a song in the air
Light in the eye and it's goodbye to care
Laughter, oh love and a welcoming there
Isle of my heart, my own one

Tell me o' lands o' the Orient, gay
Speak o' the riches and joys o' Cathay
Aye but it's grand to be wauking ilk day
Tae find yourself nearer tae Isla.and it's

Westering home with a song in the air...

Where are the folk like the folk o' the west
Canty and couthy and kindly, the best
There I would hide me and there I would rest
At hame wi' my ain folk in Isla.and it's

Westering home with a song in the air...

Isle of my heart, my own one

Copyright ©2003 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(Harry Hagan - Gaberlunzie Music)

Lyrics unavailable on this site. Copyright owned by Gaberlunzie Music.

You may find the lyrics here.

Copyright ©2006 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(Robert Burns arr. B.W. Davies - MCPS/PRS)

The second verse of this song ranks, in my opinion, with the very best of Burns' love poetry/songs. Apparently it was written in Burns' youth. I was attracted to it after hearing Charlie Todd of Freuchie, a great Burns enthusiast, recite the words at Burns Suppers. When I heard the melody (not the original), from sources as diverse but equally beautiful, as Kenneth McKellar and Fiona Forbes, I knew I had to learn it! Incidentally, the unusual spelling of "Morison" is as used by Burns.

O, Mary, at thy window be
This is the wished, the trysted 'oor
Those smiles and glances let me see
That mak the miser's treasure poor
How blythely wad I bide the stoure
A weary slave frae sun tae sun
Could I the rich reward secure
The lovely Mary Morison

Yestreen, when to the trembling string
The dance gaed through the lichted ha'
Tae thee my fancy took its wing
I sat, but neither heard nor saw
Though this was fairand that was braw
An' yon the toast o' a' the toon
I sighed and said amang them a'
Ye arna Mary Morison

O, Mary, canst thou wreck his peace
Wha for thy sake wad gladly dee?
Or canst thou break that he'rt o' his
Whase only thocht is loving thee
If love for love thou wilt na gie
At least be pity tae me shown
A thocht ungentle canna be
The thocht o' Mary Morison

Copyright ©2003 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(Duncan McCrone/Cy Jack - Copyright Control)

(B.W. Davies MCPS/PRS)
Inspired by the sinking of the Carradale based trawler, "The Antares" in 1990. All too often we are reminded of how dangerous and hard life can be for our fishermen, battling storms, gales, governments and the unexpected. This is Duncan and Cy's tribute to all of them.

Lyrics unavailable, Copyright owned by Duncan McCrone and Cy Jack.

Copyright ©2004 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(Eric Bogle - PLD Music Ltd)

I first heard this song, sung by Iain MacKintosh, one of the great stalwarts of the folk scene in Scotland and beyond. I first recorded it with Beggars Mantle in 1984 and it has been a favourite of mine since then. This anti war song is probably one of the songs that will ensure Eric Bogle's place as one of the great folk-song writers.

Lyrics unavailable on this site. Copyright owned by PLD Music Ltd.

You may find the lyrics here.

Copyright ©2004 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(Halfin, McLean, Hulskramer - Cinephonic Music Ltd)

Lyrics unavailable on this site. Copyright owned by Cinephonic Music Ltd.

You may find the lyrics here..

Copyright ©2004 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(Trad arr. B.W. Davies - MCPS/PRS)

A song I found in my early days as a folk singer, in the book, "The Scottish Folksinger", compiled and edited by Norman Buchan and Peter Hall. It was the source of so much material for me and many others of my generation. By 1820, Peterhead, The Blue Toun, was the principal whaling port in Britain and by the end of the century it also had Scotland's third largest herring fleet.

The Diamond is a ship, my lads, for the Davis Strait she's bound,
And the quay it is all garnished with bonnie lassies round.
The Captain gives the order to sail the ocean wide,
Where the sun it never set, my lads, nor darkness dims the tide.

So it's cheer up, lads, let your hearts never fail,
For the bonnie ship, The Diamond, goes a-fishing for the whale.

Along the quay at Peterheid the lassies stand aroon',
Wi' their shawls all pu'ed aboot them and the saut tears rinnin' doon.
Don't you weep, my bonnie lass, though you be left behind,
For the rose will grow on Greenland's ice before we change our mind.

So it's cheer up, lads...

Here's a health to The Resolution, likewise The Eliza Swan,
Here's a health to The Battler of Montrose and The Diamond, ship of fame.
We wear the trousers o' the white and the jackets o' the blue,
When we return to Peterheid we'll ken that ye've been true.

So it's cheer up, lads...

It will be bricht baith day and nicht when the whaler lads come hame,
Wi' a ship that's fu' o' oil, my lads, and money to our name;
We'll make the cradles for to rock and the blankets for to tear,
And every lass in Peterheid sing "Hushabye, my dear".

So it's cheer up, lads...

So it's cheer up, lads...

Copyright ©2003 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(Trad arr. B.W. Davies - MCPS/PRS)

I knew nothing about this song when we recorded it, yet its effect on me has been immense. I first heard it when someone else listened to it in a record shop in Olympia Arcade, Kirkcaldy. I was so disappointed when she bought the McCalmans album it was on and I had to wait to buy another copy. I was probably fifteen at the time and a new covert to folk music. Until then, the only harmony I thought acceptable for in folk consisted of I, IV, V chords. The McCalmans arrangements and sound opened my eyes and ears to new possibilities and a whole new repertoire of music. Wendy Weatherby, who plays the beautiful 'cello parts on this album, tells me that this is a Scottish version of an Irish song.

I went to Church last Sunday
My love, she passed me by
I could see her love was changing
By the rovin' of her eye

By the rovin' of her eye
By the rovin' of her eye
I could see her love was changing
By the rovin' of her eye

Oh my love is fair and clever
Her hands are neat and sma'
And she is quite good looking
And that's the best of a'

And that's the best of a'
And that's the best of a'
And she is quite good looking
And that's the best of a'

Oh Hannah, loving Hannah
Play gi'e tae me your hand
You said, if e'er you married
That I would be the man

That I would be the man
That I would be the man
You said, if e'er you married
That I would be the man

Oh I'll got down to the water
When everyone's asleep
I'll think of loving Hannah
And then sit down and weep

And then sit down and weep
And then sit down and weep
I'll think of loving Hannah
And then sit down and weep

Copyright ©2003 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(Robert Burns arr. B.W. Davies - MCPS/PRS)

A song in which Burns tells the story of his own infancy, with his tongue most definitely in his cheek!

There was a lad was born in Kyle
And whatna dae or whatna style
A doubt it's hardly worth the while
Tae be sae nice wi' Robin

Robin was a rovin' boy
Rantin', rovin', rantin', rovin'
Robin was a rovin' boy
Rantin', rovin' Robin

Oor monarch's hindmost year but one
Was five and twenty days begun
Twas then, a blast o' Januar' wind
Blew hansel in on Robin

Robin was a rovin' boy...

The gossip keeked in his loof
Quo' she, "Wha lives will see the proof,
This waly boy will be nae coof
I think we'll ca' him Robin

Robin was a rovin' boy...

He'll ha'e misfortunes great and sma'
But aye a he'rt aboon them a'
He'll be a credit tae us a'
We'll a' be proud o Robin

Robin was a rovin' boy...

But sure as three times three mak nine
I see by ilka score and line
This chap will surely like oor kind
Sae leeze me on the Robin

Robin was a rovin' boy...

Robin was a rovin' boy...

Copyright ©2003 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(David J. Spittal - Copyright Control)

An award-winning song from my friend, Dave Spittal of Glenrothes, in Fife. It's a favourite with my audiences and for Dave, highly regarded as a fine singer/guitarist and raconteur, wherever he plays. My version of this song is slightly different to the one soon to be released by Kinrick, Dave's own band, which is a highly recommended hilarious "live" recording.

I rose on Friday morning and bid my love adieu
"Go on and have a good time we can manage without you"
She was off on some adventure a few days with her friend
She was going away for the weekend
The weekend, the weekend she was going away for the weekend

So I'm sitting in the house and the kids are off to school
No problem, no bother does she think that I'm a fool?
The kids are home but half an hour, I'm driven round the bend
Still she's only away for the weekend

"Dad" the bairns say to me "How's our tea not made?
You should have had the chips on and had the table laid
You've to take us to the swimming and to the Boys Brigade"
Still she's only away for the weekend
The weekend, the weekend she was going away for the weekend

I gaze in awesome wonder at the list there in my hand
Dusting first hoovering next, I think I understand
Don't mix the whites with the coloureds or I'm damned
Still she's only away for the weekend

I'm getting through the list o' chores but progress is so slow
I'm feeling kind of chuffed as one by one they go
I nearly flip my lid when the last line's PTO
Still she's only away for the weekend
The weekend, the weekend she was going away for the weekend

I'm in the supermarket and one thing that I've found
I've got the trolley with the wheel that won't go round
It goes in all directions but the one that I am bound
Still she's only away for the weekend

Then I'm standing at the checkout for an hour or maybe two
And just when I get to the front of the queue
"I'm sorry this checkout's closing" I "lost it" so would you
Still she's only away for the weekend
The weekend, the weekend she was going away for the weekend

So here's my advice to all you macho men out there
Never be afraid to tell her that you care
Don't miss that chance to tell her that she's rare
Or she might go away for the weekend
The weekend, the weekend she might go away for the weekend
The weekend, the weekend she might go away for the weekend

Copyright ©2003 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(Trad arr. B.W. Davies - MCPS/PRS)

A musical diet of Andy Stewart, Jimmy Shand and Kenneth McKellar ensured that I cannot remember a time when I did not know of this song. I am privileged to have worked with all three of these great artists and remember my late Mother, a Dundonian, every time I sing this song we used to sing.

Cauld winter was howlin' o'er moor and o'er mountain
And wild was the surge of the dark rolling sea,
When I met about daybreak a bonnie young lassie,
Wha asked me the road and the miles to Dundee.

Says I, "My young lassie, I canna' weel tell ye
The road and the distance I canna' weel gie.
But if you'll permit me tae gang a wee bittie,
I'll show ye the road and the miles to Dundee".

At once she consented and gied me her arm,
Ne'er a word did I speir wha the lassie micht be,
She appeared like an angel in feature and form,
As she walked by my side on the road to Dundee.

At length wi' the Howe o' Strathmartine behind us,
The spires o' the toon in full view we could see,
She said "Gentle Sir, I can never forget ye
For showing me far on the road to Dundee".

Then I took the gowd pin from the scarf on my bosom
And said "Keep ye this in remembrance o' me
Then bravely I kissed the sweet lips o' the lassie,
E'er I parted wi' her on the road to Dundee.

So here's to the lassie, I ne'er can forget her,
And lika young laddie that's listening to me,
O never be sweer to convoy a young lassie
Though it's only to show her the road to Dundee.

Though it's only to show her the road to Dundee.

Copyright ©2003 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(Burns arr. B.W. Davies - MCPS/PRS)

The "rogues" concerned are the members of the Scottish parliament who signed the Act of Union with England in 1707. Some people, mistakenly, regard this song as anti-English when in fact it demonstrates the disgust Burns felt for his own countrymen who could "sell their Granny" if they could satisfy their own personal greed and ambition. Somehow, I have the feeling that the sentiment of this song will always be contemporary, wherever we are.

Fareweel tae a' our Scottish fame
Fareweel our ancient glory
Fareweel even tae the Scottish name
So famed in martial story
Now Sark runs o'er the Solway sands
And Tweed runs tae the ocean
Tae mark where England's province stands
Such a parcel o' rogues in a nation

What force or guile could not subdue
Through many warlike ages
Is wrought now by a coward few
For hireling traitor's wages
The English steel we could disdain
Secure in valour's station
But English gold has been our bane
Such a parcel o' rogues in a nation

O would ere I had seen the day
That treason thus could sell us
My auld grey heid had lien in clay
Wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace
But pith find power till my last hour
I'll mak this declaration
We're bought and sold for English gold
Such a parcel o' rogues in a nation

Copyright ©2003 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(Ronnie Browne - Corries Music Ltd.)

A song that looks to the past to be an inspiration for the future. Lyrics unavailable on this site. Copyright owned by Corries Music Ltd.

You may find the lyrics here.

Copyright ©2004 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(Trad arr. B.W. Davies and W.E. McArthur - MCPS/PRS)

Attributed to James Hogg, this song also features in Burns books. and the repertoires of many folksingers! My late partner Bill McArthur and I recorded this on 19th January 1984 for our first album, but it was never used. I am grateful to David, William and Paul McArthur for allowing this first release of something that represents an important and happy time in my life.

Whaur hae ye been sae braw, lad?
Whaur hae ye been sae brankie-o?
Whaur hae ye been sae braw, lad?
Come 'ye by Killiecrankie-o?

An' ye had been whaur I hae been
Ye wadna been sae cantie-o
An' ye had seen what I hae seen
On the braes o' Killiecrankie-o

I fought at land, I fought at sea
At hame I fought my auntie-o
But I met the Devil and Dundee
On the braes o' Killiecrankie-o

An' ye had been whaur I hae been...

The bauld pitcur fell in a furr
And Clavers gat a crankie-o
Or I had fed an Athol gled
On the braes o' Killiecrankie-o

An' ye had been whaur I hae been...

Oh fie, MacKay, What gart ye lie
I' the brush ayont the brankie-o?
Ye'd better kiss'd King Willie's loff
Than come tae Killiecrankie-o

An' ye had been whaur I hae been...

It's nae shame, it's nae shame
It's nae shame to shank ye-o
There's sour slaes on Athol braes
An the de'ils at Killiecrankie-o

An' ye had been whaur I hae been...

Copyright ©2003 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.

(Matt McGinn - Harmony Music Ltd.)

A children's song from the imagination of Matt McGinn, one of the great men in the folk song revival/boom in Scotland. Recorded in 1989 with my sons, Richard, Scott and Michael. I was proud of them then, as wee boys and I'm proud of them as the men they are now.

Lyrics unavailable. Copyright owned by Harmony Music Ltd.

Copyright ©2004 Bruce W. Davies. All international rights reserved.