I was born in dear old Glasgow, in a Gallowgate tenement, When people spoke of my bonny land I didn’t know what they meant. But then I took: to travel, I moved far and wide, Now when I speak of my native land I speak with loving pride: For I hae seen the Hieland’s, I hae seen the Low, And I will brag o’ my native land wherever I may go. Old Nature took a tantrum, rnany’s the age gone by, To outdo all of her wondrous works she thought she’d hae a try, She toiled and she thundered, she rumbled and she rolled, She made the Hielands o’ Scotland then she threw away the mould: Come rambling up by Oban, strolling down by Perth, In the rugged hills o’ Argyllshire find the sweetest place on earth; Go gazing by the Cuillins, see the Lomond in the mist, In the lovely island of Moula hear the songbird at its best: The Irish and the English, the African and Turk, For a world of joy and harmony together we will work. On the shore of foreign brothers we’ll lay no robber’s hand, And all we wish is to toil and work in our own native land

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