In the Scottish Tradition

Tracks:

If My Memory Serves Me Well

Ho Ro! My Nut Brown Maiden

Bonnie George Cambell

Doon The Watter

Bonnie Strathyre

Uist Tramping Song

Broom O' The Cowdenknowes

My Love's She's But A Lassie Yet

Three Fishers

Banks O' Sicily

Credits:

Alex Beaton—Vocals, Guitar

Bob Gothar—Guitar

Robin Lorentz — Fiddle

Randy Farrar— Bass, Keyboards

The Browne Sisters – Background Vocals

If My Memory Serves Me Well

I recall a dear green place with a river flowing through

Many years and many tears have fallen by before I knew

I must return to look one more upon my town to dwell

A birthplace with no rival if my memory serves me well

If my memory serves me well

If my sight remains acute I’ll watch the River Clyde

Flowing through the centre of my Glasgow with pride

Young lovers walk through Kelvingrove no more romantic route

I pray to see it all again if my sight remains acute

If my sight remains acute

If my hearing doesn’t foil the lark I’ll surely hear

The sound of churning water as “The Waverly” leaves the pier

The trains of Central Station, street buskers as they wail

I pray to hear it all again if my hearing doesn’t fail

If my hearing doesn’t foil

If my step holds firm and strong I’ll stroll around George Square

Where Sir Walter Scott is perched away up in the air

I’d wonder down Argyle Street and feel like I belong

Just to walk My Glasgow if my step holds firm and strong

If my step holds firm and strong

Ho Ro! My Nut Brown Maiden

Ho ro my nut brown maiden, hee ree my nut brown maiden

Ho ro ro maiden, o she’s the maid for me

Her eye so mildly beaming, her look so frank and free

In waking and in dreaming is ever more with me

O Mary mild-eyed Mary by land or on the sea

Though time and tide may vary, my heart beats true to thee

With thy fair face before me how sweetly flew the hour

When all thy beauty o’er me came streaming in its power

And when with blossoms laden bright summer comes again

I’ll fetch my nut brown maiden down from the bonnie glen

Doon The Watter

My father worked for buttons in a wee dry salters shop

But we were young and didnae have a care

Our shoes were scuffed and worn, our dungarees a’ torn

Our sloppy joes they wirnae fit to wear

Noo me and ma wee brother we were headaches to my mother

And dirty for the best part o’ the year

But she had us clean as whistles in our kilts and co-op sandals

When we went down the watter for the fair

Chorus:

And we’re sailing doon the Clyde, sailing doon the Clyde

And headin’ for Kilgreggan in the morning

Then on to Rothesay Bay we’d leave on Saturday

To catch the Jeannie Dean frae Crigendoran

The summertime was all I’m sure that kept my father gaun

A time that he enjoyed as much as me

The family a’ the gither we didnae mind the weather

He’d laugh and sing and bounce us on each knee

“0 toora loora liddey ah finish work on Friday”

His troubles seem to vanish in the air

Ah but noo he’s gone forever like the steamers on the river

That went sailing doon the wafter for the fair

Chorus

The golden age of paddle steamers sadly disappeared

And summertime has never been the same

Those days of river cruisin’ that slowly we were losing

An era that will never come again

For now we fly to Malta Majorca and Gibralter

France and Spain and sunny Italy

A’ the kids a’ think it’s heaven like the Clyde for me at seven

But the days of doon the watter’s gone for me

Bonnie Strathyre

There’s meadows in Lanark and mountains in Skye

And pastures in Hielands and Lowlands forbye

But there’s no greater luck that the heart could desire

Than to herd the fine cattle in Bonnie Strathyre

O it’s up in the morn and awa’ to the hill

When the long summer days are soe warm and sae still

Till the peak of Ben Voirlich is girdled with fire

And the evenin’ falls gently in Bonnie Strathyre

Then there’s mirth in the sheiling and love in my breast

When the sun has gone down and the kye are at rest

For there’s many a prince would be proud to aspire

To my winsome wee Maggie the pride o’ Strathyre

Her lips are like rowans in ripe summer seen

And mild as the starlight the glint o’ her e’en

Far sweeter her breath than the scent o’ the briar

And her voice is sweet music in Bonnie Strathyre

Set Flora by Colin and Maggie by me

And we’ll dance to the pipes swellin’ loudly and free

Till the moon in the heavens climbing higher and higher

Bids us sleep on fresh bracken in Bonnie Strathyre

Though some in the towns o’ the Lowlands seek fame

And some will gang sodgerin’ far from their home

Yet I’ll aye herd my cattle and bigg my oin byre

And love my oin Maggie in Bonnie Strathyre

Broom O’ The Cowdenknowes

How blithe was I each morn to see

My love come o’er the hill

She tripped the burn and she ran to me

I met her wi’ guid will

Chorus:

O the broom, the the bonnie bonnie broom

The broom o’ the Cowdenknowes

Fain would I be in my ain country

Herdin’ my faither yowes

We neither wanted ewe nor lamb

While the flock near us lay

I gathered in my sheep at night

She cheered me a’ the day

Chorus

Hard fate that I should banished be

Gang warily and mourn

Because I lo’ed the fairest lass

That ever yet was born

Chorus

Fareweel ye Cowdenknowes fareweel

Fareweel a’ pleasures there

To wander by her side once again

Is all I crave or care

Chorus

My Love’s She’s But A Lassie Yet

O my love she’s but a lassie yet

We’ll let her stand a year or two

She’ll no be half sae saucy yet

I rue the day I sought her o

Who gets her need nae sae he’s woo’d

But he may say he’s bought her o

Come draw a drop o’ the best o’ it yet

Gie seek for pleasure where you will

But here I never missed it yet

We’re a’ dry wi’ drinkin’ o’t

The minister kiss’t the fiddlers wife

And couldnae preach for thinkin’ o’t

Three Fishers

Three fishers went sailing out into the west

Out into the west as the sun went down

Each thought on the woman that loved him the best

And the children stood watching them out of the town

For men must work and women must weep

For there’s little to earn and many to keep

And the harbour bar be moaning

Three wives sat up in the lighthouse tower

They trimmed the lamps as the sun went down

And they looked at the squall and they looked at the shower

And the night-wrack come rolling in rugged and brown

For men must work and women must weep

‘Though storms be sudden and the waters be deep

And the harbour bar be moaning

Three corpses lay out in the shining sand

In the morning gleam as the tide went down

And the women were weeping and wringing their hands

For those who would never come back to the town

For men must work and women must weep

And the sooner it’s over the sooner to sleep

And good-bye to that bar and its moaning

Banks O’ Sicily

Chorus

Fareweel ye banks o’ Sicily

Fare ye weel ye valley and shore

There’s no Jock will mourn the kyles o’ ye

Poor bloody soldiers are weary

The pipie is dozie the pipie is fey

He wullnae come roon for his vino the day

The sky ow’r Messina is unco and grey

An’ a’ the bricht chaulmers are eerie

Chorus

The drummy is fine and the drummy is grand

He cannot be seen for his straps and his band

He’s hauled himself up to take leave of this land

To be home with his loved one, his dearie

Chorus

Bonnie George Cambell

High upon hielands and leigh upon Tay

Bonnie George Cambell rode oot on a day

Saddled and bridled sae bonnie rode he

Home came his guid horse but never come he

Saddled and bridled and booted rode he

A plume tae his helmet, a sword at his knee

But toom come his saddle a’ bloody toe see

Home came his quid horse but never came he

Doon came his ould mother greefin’ fu’ sair

Oot came his bonnie wife rivin’ her hair

My meadows lie green and my corn is unshorn

My barn is toe build and my baby’s unborn

High upon hielands and leigh upon tay

Bonnie George Cambell rode oot on a day

Saddled and bridled sae bonnie rode he

Home came his guid horse but never come he

Uist Tramping Song

Come along come along let us step it out together

Come along come along be it fair or stormy weather

With the hills of home before us and the purple of the heather

Let us sing a happy chorus come along come along

O now gaily sings the lark and the sky is awake

With the promise of the day for the road we glady take

For it’s heel and toe and forward bidding farewell to the town

And the welcome that awaits us ere the sun goes down

It’s the smell of sea and shore, it’s the tong of bog and peat

It’s the secnt of briar and myrfie that puts magic in your feet

So on we go rejoicing over bracken over style

And soon we will be tramping out that last long mile