Roch the wind in the clear day dawin Blaws the cloods heilster-gowdie ower the bay But there's mair nor a roch wind blawin Throu the Great Glen o the warld the day It's a thocht that wad gar oor rottans Aa thae rogues that gang gallus fresh an gey Tak the road an seek ither loanins Wi thair ill ploys tae sport an play Nae mair will our bonnie callants Merch tae war when oor braggarts crousely craw Nor wee weans frae pitheid an clachan Mourn the ships sailin doun the Broomielaw Broken faimlies in lands we've hairriet Will curse Scotland the Brave nae mair, nae mair Black an white ane-til-ither mairriet Mak the vile barracks o thair maisters bare Sae come aa ye at hame wi freedom Never heed whit the houdies croak for Doom In yer hoose aa the bairns o Adam Will find breid, barley-bree an paintit rooms When MacLean meets wi's friens in Springburn Aa thae roses an geans will turn tae blume An the black lad frae yont Nyanga Dings the fell gallows o the burghers doun