Yer Ain: The Young Yins and the Auld Yin

Aw Thae People

Braid Scotland haes nae peer the warld’s lenth lang,
So thare we aw war, the people o Scotland
In the same Clyde-built boat
If ye’re intae that kin o thing ye coud
Cry it Das Narrenschiff but we are no
So we will no bother tryin tae be smairt
Wi the name o the warld’s first beukie
The Ship o Fools new built wi yon serpent Rerek pentit on it,
“Laid doon” as they say, in the yairds alang the great wey.

But here in the north in this laund, oor ain Scotland,
We will no langer stay couried doon ahint a hedge,
Oorsels and beasts and carvins frae the time afore this
Their lives o toil slipt past atween sleeps in a mist
That verra like tae life itsel can dissipate.

Weemen and men brakkin soil in time
Lang lost doon the black oors o the mine
And the clock ticks in darkness and ye canna tell the nummer,
That fuels the great burnins o an Earl in Hell
Or Beardmore’s honkin castles at Porkheid as weel.

Wi spring greenin heich abuin their heids
While they are efter makkin their ain caverns
Aroond by their braid and heavy backs
And bringin pools o dust tae bed and taverns tae,
Wi aw that diggin o yer black baund airnstane.
I hear the fearsome Earl in his daurk weskit o auld skin
Is hingin roond aboot yer hoose agin.