Author: David Gilfillan

I’m a freeborn man of the travelling people
Got no fixed abode with nomads we are numbered
Country lanes and by-ways were always my ways
I never fancied being lumbered.

Oh, we knew the woods and the resting places
And the small birds sang when winter days were over
Then we’d pack our load and be on the road
Those were good old times for a rover.

Now I’ve known life hard and I’ve known it easy
And I’ve cursed the life when winter days are dawning
But we’ve laughed and sung through the whole night long
Seen the Summer sunrise in the morning.

There was open ground where a man could linger
For a week or two, for time was not our master
Then away you’d jog with your horse and dog
Nice and easy no need to go faster.

All you free born men of the travelling people
Every Tinker, Rolling Stone and Gipsy Rover
Winds of change are blowing, old ways are going
Your travelling days will soon be over.

Come the winter, cold and dreary
Brings the hawk down from the high scree
To the whins where snowy hares hide
All around the Lochanside

Come the spring the land lies weary
Till the sun shines out so cheery
Brings the bloom, for all of June¹s pride
All around the Lochanside

If you’d been you¹d have seen the scatter
O the peezies o¹er the machair
When above the tawny owl glides
All around the Lochanside
And the heron he comes a-creeping
Through the rashes so green and dreeping
To the pool where wily trout slide
All around the Lochanside

Aye if you ever have a reason
To be here in any season
Come and try the barley bree in
Round the fire on Lochanside

Summer time the fish are louping
Dippers in the burnies couping
Swallows fly from dawn til evens-tide
All around the Lochanside
By the autumn the pinks are winging
Blaeberries o¹er the moors are hanging
Salmon through the surging spate fight
All around the Lochanside

If ye¹d been ye¹d have seen the scatter
O the peezies o¹er the machair
When above the tawny owl glides
All around the Lochanside

Aye if you ever have a reason
To be here in any season
Come and try the barley bree in
Round the fire on Lochanside
Aye if you ever have a notion
To be welcomed with devotion
Travel home o¹er any ocean
To be here on Lochanside.

There once was a troop of Irish dragoons
Come marching down thru Fyvie, O
And the captain feel in love with a very bonnie lass
And the name she was called was pretty Peggy-o

Chorus
There’s many a bonnie lass in the howe o’ Auchterlass
There’s many a bonnie lass in Gairioch-o
There’s many a bonnie Jean in the toon of Aberdeen
But the flower of them all lives in Fyvie, O

O come down the stairs, Pretty Peggy, my dear
Come down the stairs, Pretty Peggy-o
Come down the stairs, comb back your yellow hair
Bid ye’r last farewell to your mammy-o


I never did intend a soldier’s wife for to be
A soldier shall marru a Soldier-o
I never did intend to gae tae a foreign land
And I will never marry a soldier-o


The colonel he cried, mount, boys, mount,boys, mount
The captain, he cried, tarry-o
O tarry yet a while, just another day or twa
Til I see if the bonnie lass will marry-o

Twas in the early morning, when we marched awa
And O but the captain he was sorry-o
The drums they did beat on the merry braes o’ Gight
And the band played the bonnie lass of Fyvie, O

Long ere we came tae old Meldrum toon
We had our captain to carry-o
And long ere we cam by Bonnie Aberdeen
We had our captain to bury-o

Green grow the birks on bonnie Ethanside
And low lie the lowlands of Fyvie, O
The captain’s name was Ned and he died for a maid
He died for the bonny lass of Fyvie, O

We lost it all in one fierce affray. 
I stood not to fight and just walked away. 
Now I regret, I did not delay 
Acting on feelings I held for a day. 

CHORUS 
Fancy me, so fancy free. 
I’m so far from home, I’m way out at sea. 
That’s not the way I want it to be. 
I’m so far from home and 
Too Far From She. 

We sail with a crew of a hundred and more. 
So many good men, good humour in store. 
We drink in a crowd when we go ashore, 
But I’ve never felt so lonely before. 

Six months have gone since I let her go. 
Time will not stand the wind shall still blow. 
The seas must ever fall and grow. 
My world will still turn but ever so slow. 

Living this lie is a foolish game. 
I’ve written to say she’s not to blame. 
It crossed in the post with a letter that came. 
She’s written to say she feels the same.

Come, a’ ye tramps and hawker lads and gaitherers o’ blaw

That tramps the country roun’ and roun’ come listen ane and a’
I’ll tell tae ye a rovin’ tale and sichts that I hae seenFar up intae the snowy north and sooth by Gretna Green

I’ve seen the high Ben Nevis a-towerin’ tae the moon
I’ve been by Crieff and Callander and roun’ by Bonny Doon
And by the Nethy’s silvery tide and places ill tae ken
Far up intae the stormy north lies Urquhart’s fairy glen

Oft hae I laughed intae myself when trudgin’ on the road
Wi’ a meal o’ bla’ upon by back, my face as brown’s a toad
Wi’ lumps o’ cake and tattie scones and cheese and braxie ham
Need thinking where I’m comin’ frae or where I’m goin’ tae gang

I’m happy in the summer time beneath the bricht blue sky
Nae thinkin’ in the mornin’ at nicht where I’m to lie
Barns or byres or anywhere, or oot among the hay
And if the weather does permit, I’m happy every day

Loch Katrine and Loch Lomond have a’ been seen by me
The Dee, the Don, the Deveron that awe flow tae the sea
Dunrobin Castle by the way, I nearly hae forgot
And aye, the rickle cairn o’ stains that marks the house o’ John o’ Groats

I think I’ll go to Paddy’s land, I’m makkin’ up my mind
For Scotland’s greatly altered now, I canna raise the wind
But I will trust in Providence, if Providence proves true
And I will sing o’ Erin’s isle ‘ere I get back to you

Chorus.

I will go, I will go when the fighting is over
To the land of Mcleod where I left to be a soldier,

I will go, I will go

When the King’s son came along,
He brought us altogether
Saying “Fine Highland men, you will fight for my father

I will go, I will go.

I’ve a buckle to my belt, a sword in the scabbard,
A red coat to my back and a shilling in my pocket 

I will go I will go 

When they put us all on board the lassies they were singing

but the tears came to their eye’s when the bell started ringing

I will go I will go.

When we landed on that shore and saw the foreign heather
we knew that some would fall and would lie there forever 

I will go l will go.

When we came back to our glen the winter was turning
Our goods lay in the snow and our houses they were burning.

I will go I will go.

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

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

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

Late summer day and my love and I went walking
Over hills and fields we walked, laughing and talking

Came across an old farmhouse standing broken and bare
It used to be someone’s home now no one lives there.

There’s a red barn standing held together with nails and dust
And a tired old Massey Harris all wires and rust

Weeds overgrown in a garden sown with care
It used to be someone’s home now no one lives there

And through the crack in the window pane I hear the sound of the falling rain
Another farm being left run down another family moved into town

Had a life that they tried to save but the banks took it all away
Hung a sign on a torn screen door nobody lives here no more

They worked their fingers to the bone nothing left They can call their own
Packed it in under leaden skies with just the wheat waving them goodbye

Had a life that they tried to save but the banks took it all away
Hung a sign on a torn screen door nobody lives here no more

Had a life that they tried to save but the banks took it all away
Hung a sign on a torn screen door nobody lives here no more

My name is Jamie Raeburn, from Glasgow town I came 
My place and habitation I’m forced to leave in shame 
Frae my place and habitation, it’s I must gang awa’ 
Far from the bonnie hills and dales of Caledonia 

It was early on one morning, just by the break of day 
The turnkey he came to us and unto us did say 
Arise you hapless convicts, arise you one and a’ 
This is the day you are to stray from Caledonia 

So we all arose, put on our clothes, our hearts were full of grief 
Our friends who stood around the coach could grant us no relief 
Our parents, wives and sweethearts too, their hears were broke in twa
To see us leave the hills and dales of Caledonia 

So farewell my dearest mother, I’m vexed for what I’ve done 
I hope none shall cast up to you the race that I have run 
I hope that they’ll protect you when I am far awa’ 
Far from the bonnie hills and dales of Caledonia 

And farewell, my honest father, you were the best of men 
And likewise my sweetheart, it’s Catherine is her name 
No more we’ll walk by Clyde’s clear stream or by the Broomielaw 
For I must leave the hills and dales of Caledonia 

Chorus
Gin ye marry me Lassie
At the Kirk called Birnie Bouzle
Till the day ye die lassie
Ye will ne’er repent it

Ye will wear when ye are wed
A girdle and a Hieland plaid
High above a heather bed
Sae coutle and sae canty

Tho your tocher is but small
a hodden-grey will wear for tha’
I’ll save my siller tae mak’ ye braw
And Ye will ne’er repent it

Ye’ll hae bonnie bairn’s and a’ 
Some lassie’s fair and ladies braw
Like their mither yin and a’

Yer faither he’s consented

I’ll hunt the otter and the brock
The hart the hare the hearther-cock
And you alone will spay the rock
And mak’ ye dishes dainty