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Legend In My Spare Time
Ashes to ashes and funks to funky
Daddy Long Legs is a mean ass honky
And Jimmy Pop ain't no heiny hobbit gaybe
Ain't no big meaty chunks in my thick brown gravy
Cause I'm a Loch Ness a Loch Ness a Loch Ness monster
Jerry's Kids are knockin' at my door
song performed by by Bloodhound Gang
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loch Katrine
Beautiful Loch Katrine in all thy majesty so grand,
Oh! how charming and fascinating is thy silver strand!
Thou certainly art most lovely, and worthy to be seen,
Especially thy beautiful bay and shrubberies green.
Then away to Loch Katrine in the summer time,
And feast on its scenery most lovely and sublime;
There's no other scene can surpass in fair Scotland,
It's surrounded by mountains and trees most grand.
And as I gaze upon it, let me pause and think,
How many people in Glasgow of its water drink,
That's conveyed to them in pipes from its placid lake,
And are glad to get its water their thirst to slake.
Then away to Loch Katrine in the summer time,
And feast on its scenery most lovely and sublime;
There's no other scene can surpass in fair Scotland,
It's surrounded by mountains and trees most grand.
The mountains on either side of it are beautiful to be seen,
Likewise the steamers sailing on it with their clouds of steam:
And their shadows on its crystal waters as they pass along,
Is enough to make the tourist burst into song.
Then away to Loch Katrine in the summer time,
And feast on its scenery most lovely and sublime;
There's no other scene can surpass in fair Scotland,
It's surrounded by mountains and trees most grand.
'Tis beautiful to see its tiny wimpling rills,
And the placid Loch in the hollow of a circle of hills,
Glittering like silver in the sun's bright array,
Also many a promontory, little creek, and bay.
Then away to Loch Katrine in the summer time,
And feast on its scenery most lovely and sublime;
There's no other scene can surpass in fair Scotland,
It's surrounded by mountains and trees most grand.
Then to the east there's the finely wooded Ellen's Isle,
There the tourist can the tedious hours beguile,
As he gazes on its white gravelled beautiful bay,
It will help to drive dull care away.
Then away to Loch Katrine in the summer time,
And feast on its scenery most lovely and sublime;
There's no other scene can surpass in fair Scotland,
It's surrounded by mountains and trees most grand.
The mountains Ben-An and Ben-Venue are really very grand
Likewise the famous and clear silver strand;
Where the bold Rob Roy spent many a happy day,
With his faithful wife, near by its silvery bay.
Then away to Loch Katrine in the summer time,
And feast on its scenery most lovely and sublime;
There's no other scene can surpass in fair Scotland,
It's surrounded by mountains and trees most grand.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Margaret
(traditional, arrangement by steve rothery, mark kelly, pete trawavas, michael pointer & fish)
For me and my true-love will never walk again on the bonnie, bonnie banks of loch lomond.
Moira anderson, eat your heart out!
You-ou--
Youll take the high road an Ill take the low road, an Ill be in scotland before you
For me and my true-love well never walk again on the bonnie, bonnie banks of loch lomond
Youll take the acid an Ill take the dope, an Ill be stoned before you
For me an my true-love, the drink waters well on the bonnie, bonnie banks of loch lomond
Step we gaily on we go, heel for heel and toe for toe
Arm in arm
An row an row all for mhairis wedding
Step we gaily on we go, heel for heel and toe for toe
Arm in arm an row an row all for mhairis wedding
I said you, you, you, youll take the high road
I said ill, ill, ill, Ill take the low road
On the lead guitar, from yorkshire mr. stephen rothery!
I said you, you, you, you take the high road
I said ill, ill, ill, Ill take the low road
On the bass guitar, the backing vocal, from aylesbury mr. peter trawavas!
I said you, you, you, you take the high road
I said ill, ill, ill, Ill take the low road
On the keyboards, from dublin mr. mark kelly!
I said you, you--, youll take the high road
I said ill, ill--, Ill take the low road
On drums, per-cus-si-on, mr. michael e.t. pointer!
And a very big round of applause, for yourself, one audience tonight
It takes two!
On vocals, and percussion fish! ...
A dream fulfilled!
Sweet ma- ma- ma- ma- margaret
I said you take the high road
An Ill take the low road
An Ill be in scotland before you
For me and my true-love well never meet again
On the bonnie, bonnie banks of loch lomond
Sweet ma- ma- ma- ma- margaret
The balcony: sweet ma- ma- ma- ma margaret
Say yer scottish: sweet ma- ma- ma- ma- margaret
I said youll take the high road
An Ill take the low road
An Ill be in scotland before you
For me and my true-love well never meet again
On the bonnie, bonnie, bonnie, bonnie, bonnie banks of loch lomond!
Banks of loch lomond!
Sweet margaret
Sweet margaret
Sweet ma- ma- ma- ma- margaret!
Thank you edinburgh, good night, we shall de-fi-nite-ly return
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lachin y Gair
Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses!
In you let the minions of luxury rove;
Restore me the rocks where the snow-flake reposes,
Though still they are sacred to freedom and love;
Yet, Caledonia, beloved are thy mountains,
Round their white summits though elements war;
Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains,
I sigh for the valley of dark Loch na Garr.
Ah ! there my young footsteps in infancy wandered;
My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was the plaid;
On chieftains long–perished my memory ponder'd,
As daily I strode through the pine–covered glade;
I sought not my home till the day's dying glory
Gave place to the rays of the bright polar star;
For fancy was cheered by traditional story,
Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch na Garr.
"Shades of the dead! Have I not heard your voices
Rise on the night–rolling breath of the gale?"
Surely the soul of the hero rejoices,
And rides on the wind, o'er his own Highland vale.
Round Loch na Garr while the stormy mist gathers,
Winter presides in his cold icy car:
Clouds there encircle the forms of my fathers;
They dwell in the tempests of dark Loch na Garr.
Ill–starr'd, though brave, did no visions foreboding
Tell you that fate had forsaken your cause?
Ah! were you destined to die at Culloden,
Victory crowned not your fall with applause:
Still were you happy in death's earthly slumber,
You rest with your clan in the caves of Braemar;
The pibroch resounds, to the piper's loud number,
Your deeds on the echoes of dark Loch na Garr.
Years have rolled on, Loch na Garr, since I left you,
Years must elapse ere I tread you again:
Nature of verdure and flowers has bereft you,
Yet still you are dearer than Albion's plain.
England! thy beauties are tame and domestic,
To one who has roved o'er the mountains afar:
Oh for the crags that are wild and majestic!
The steep frowning glories of dark Loch na Garr.
poem by Byron (1806)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Loch Ness
Beautiful Loch Ness,
The truth to express,
Your landscapes are lovely and gay,
Along each side of your waters, to Fort Augustus all the way,
Your scenery is romantic...
With rocks and hills gigantic...
Enough to make one frantic,
As they view thy beautiful heathery hills,
And their clear crystal rills,
And the beautiful woodlands so green,
On a fine summer day...
From Inverneaa all the way...
Where the deer and the doe together doth play;
And the beautiful Falls of Foyers with its cystal spray,
As clear as the day,
Enchanting and gay,
To the traveller as he gazes thereon,
That he feels amazed with delight,
To see the water falling from such a height,
That his heed feels giddy with the scene,
As he views the Falls of Foyers and the woodlands so green,
That he exclaims in an ecstasy of delight -
Oh, beautiful Loch Ness!
I must sincerely confess,
That you are the most beautiful to behold,
With your lovely landscapes and water so cold.
And as he turns from the scene, he says with a sigh-
Oh, beautiful Loch Ness! I must bid you good-bye.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Loch Leven
Beautiful Loch Leven, near by Kinross
For a good day's fishing the angler is seldom at a loss,
For the Loch it abounds with pike and trout,
Which can be had for the catching without any doubt;
And the scenery around it is most beautiful to be seen,
Especially the Castle, wherein was imprisoned Scotland's ill-starred Queen.
Then there's the lofty Lomond Hills on the Eastern side,
And the loch is long, very deep, and wide;
Then on the Southern side there's Benarty's rugged hills,
And from the tops can be seen the village of Kinross with its spinning mills.
The big house of Kinross is very handsome to be seen,
With its beautiful grounds around it, and the lime trees so green
And 'tis a magnificent sight to see, on a fine summer afternoon,
The bees extracting honey from the leaves when in full bloom.
There the tourist can enjoy himself and while away the hours,
Underneath the lime trees shady bowers,
And listen to the humming of the busy bees,
While they are busy gathering honey from the lime trees.
Then there's the old burying ground near by Kinross,
And the dead that lie there turned into dusty dross,
And the gravestones are all in a state of decay,
And the old wall around it is mouldering away.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Well of Loch Maree
Calm on the breast of Loch Maree
A little isle reposes;
A shadow woven of the oak
And willow o'er it closes.
Within, a Druid's mound is seen,
Set round with stony warders;
A fountain, gushing through the turf,
Flows o'er its grassy borders.
And whoso bathes therein his brow,
With care or madness burning,
Feels once again his healthful thought
And sense of peace returning.
O restless heart and fevered brain,
Unquiet and unstable,
That holy well of Loch Maree
Is more than idle fable!
Life's changes vex, its discords stun,
Its glaring sunshine blindeth,
And blest is he who on his way
That fount of healing findeth!
The shadows of a humbled will
And contrite heart are o'er it;
Go read its legend, 'TRUST IN GOD,'
On Faith's white stones before it.
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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North And South Of The River
I want to reach out over the Loch
And feel your hand across the water
Walk with you along an unapproved road
Not looking over my shoulder
I want to see, and I want to hear
To understand your fears
But we're north and south of the river
I've been doing it wrong all of my life
This holy town has turned me over
A young man running from what he didn't understand
The wind from the Loch just get colder, colder
There was a badness that had its way
But love wasn't lost, love will have its day
North and south of the river
North and south of the river
Can we stop playing these old tattoos
Darling I don't have the answer
I want to meet you where you are
I don't need you to surrender
'Cause there's no feeling that's so alone
As when the one you're hurting is your own
North and south of the river
North and south of the river
North and south of the river
Some high ground is not worth taking
Some connections are not worth making
There's an old church bell no longer ringing
Some old songs are not worth bringing
North...
(Higher ground is not worth taking)
North and south of the river
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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North & South Of The River
I want to reach out over the loch
And feel your hand across the water
Walk with you along an unapproved road
Not looking over my shoulder
I want to see, and I want to hear
To understand your fears
But were north and south of the river
Ive been doing it wrong all of my life
This holy town has turned me over
A young man running from what he didnt understand
The wind from the loch just get colder, colder
There was a badness that had its way
But love wasnt lost, love will have its day
North and south of the river
North and south of the river
Can we stop playing these old tattoos
Darling I dont have the answer
I want to meet you where you are
I dont need you to surrender
cause theres no feeling thats so alone
As when the one youre hurting is your own
North and south of the river
North and south of the river
North and south of the river
Some high ground is not worth taking
Some connections are not worth making
Theres an old church bell no longer ringing
Some old songs are not worth bringing
North...
(higher ground is not worth taking)
North and south of the river
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Horashoot - The Bridge
HORASHOOT
SAPARI TAMAH TAMIMAH
SAPARI NOGIL BATEMAH
SAPARI TAMAH TAMIMAH
SAPARI NOGIL BATEMAH
BAT MLACHIM HACHACHOMAH
ON MAGOMECH SAPARI LI
BAT MLACHIM HACHACHOMAH
ON MAGOMECH SAPARI LI
HORASHOOT BA'AMAT NATUNAH
LOCH SHALEMET HAHATUNAH
HORASHOOT BA'AMAT NATUNAH
LOCH SHALEMET HAHATUNAH
AL YASITECH TZOR MAMUNAH
BAT WA'AL YASIG DZHAVULI
AL YASITECH TZOR MAMUNAH
BAT WA'AL YASIG DZHAVULI
OH, OH, OH, OH
DILANI YA SAHAYA
DILANI FANA GABIYA
DILANI YA SAHAYA
DILANI FANA GABIYA
WAFHAM IFHAM LA TEAYA
AN TARIK ANDAR CHALILI
WAFHAM IFHAM LA TEAYA
AN TARIK ANDAR CHALILI
OH, OH, OH, OH
We can cross the bridge together
To cross the bridge forever,
We can cross the bridge together
LOCH SHALEMET HAHATUNAH
AL YASITECH TZOR MAMUNAH
BAT WA'AL YASIG AHA AHA AHAWAY
AHA AHA AHAWAY...
song performed by by Ofra Haza
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Lone Piper
A lone piper played
on the opposite side of Loch Ness.
The music from his bagpipes
drifted through the morning mist
that hung inches above the water.
The soothing notes hung in the air
serenading the monster
reported living there.
2 April 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song - Monie a Smile, Monie a Tear
There’s monie a smile and monie a tear
On the mystery tour that brings us here
It’s monie a mile and monie a year
Since you and I sailed fae the crumbling stane pier
It’s time noo tae quit the ocean o’ dreams
Tae gan hame tae the village by the trees
And the wun was fair; we had followin’ seas
Your een were glowin and your heart was free
I lost myself in an whirlpool of words
In a world of hunger, egos and swords
I searched for a song to make it alright
Way back whun everything was black an’ white
And time was wi' us for monie a mile
When the starlight was bright and filled the night
Our hopes reached the sky, and strangers were friends
The waves weren’t breakers between us back then
When we were the morning, fresh as the breeze
Blowin’ oot fae the village by the trees
Noo the loch and glens, and the trees and the hills
The oul stane harbour, they’re all waiting still
And roon the ledges o’ galloway’s cliffs
There’s flocks o' herring gulls and razor bills
And doon by the surge at the Yellow Isle
There’s monie a curse and monie a smile
Or is this me back to the dreamin’ again
Oe'r the bridges of time consigned to flames
When kids fell in love by the oul village shop
And stole tender kisses doon by the White Loch
Tae set them aff doon the road that leads here
Windin’ far fae the village by the trees
The Ship of Fools
38 poets are sailing across Loch Katrine
Over the city of Glasgow's public water supply
30,000 sheep were cleared from the hills around
To keep Glaswegian plumbing ewe-pee free
Their elders were not consulted in this matter
Driven lamenting off their ancestral pastures
The mutton clearances, a stain on Glasgow's character.
This loch is 500 feet deep
A water bull as large as a Clydeside bus
Stays in its icy depths, waiting
To hole the hulls of oily polluters
In the city of Glasgow's public water supply
Green Tagged Kate McLaren, the Gartmore Palmer.
Black Mini Muddler. Professor Watson's Fancy,
Black Zulu, the Middle dropper
All, have got their hooks in
The city of Glasgow's public water supply.
Meanwhile, above all those jugfuls of pub-mixers,
Throat coolers, juice diluting gallons,
buzzards swoop over the trees
red and roe deer feed on the slopes
pied flycatcher, tree pipit, wood warbler, redstart
soar and dive through the leaves
Occasionally dropping feathers
On the city of Glasgow's public water supply
Not to mention 38 poets, raising an ode or two
Like sails in the wind, as poets do,
Steering by sleight and illusion,
Over the city of Glasgow's public water supply.
Uisge beathe with a smidgeon of Bardic tang
poem by Sheena Blackhall
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song - Snow on The River (iii)
I saw you once in Janet’s Lounge in the way you flicked your hair
And for a moment I was back in the Town Hall on the stairs
We were heading for tomorrow amongst the chosen few
I touched your arm and spoke and when she turned it wasn’t you
I scrawled our names in stone once on the seawall at MacDuff
I thought the end would never come, but stone’s not tough enough
To stand the blast of wind and wave, that took the love we had
Somewhere between the Sandhead shore and a fading photograph
I watched your plane come gliding down from the north of Anniesland
And your name was in the vapour trails as if by your own hand
You threw your arms around me there as everyone looked on
But I was just a refugee from someone else’s song
An Islay piper stopped and played Loch Rannoch just for me
I saw your eyes in shadow as I stood there on my knees
We crossed the line of madness once when whisky set us free
Forbidden fruit that called so sweet, we knew could never be
The notion we’ve lived other lives makes so little sense to me
And yet somehow we connected then as if we’d always been
We hardly spoke we hardly touched, we often turned our backs
On something deep that seemed to break the laws of time and chance
I heard you once in springtime babe, down where the bluebells spread
Between the White Loch and the road, in words we left unsaid
In purple perfumed haze there, I could smell the scent of grief
It wasn’t you; just thoughts of you, upon a trembling leaf
But sometimes you’re there everywhere, and I’m sure you know it still
And we could have been, as we were seen, but not for lack of will
Our good friends tried to keep us tied; for that I’m grateful too
But there were walls that wouldn’t fall, and so I ran from you
I heard from green eyes long since that you’d moved out to New York
But tragedy was waiting, and the rains fell for your loss
Some for the pain you’ve had to bear; and some for might have been
I look for you in every street but know you’re out of reach
Breffne Caoinc
NOT as a woman of the English weeping over a lord of the
English
Do I weep—
A cry that scarcely stirs the heart!
I lament as it is in my blood to lament—
Castle and stronghold are broken,
And the sovereign of the land beside the lake lies dead
Mahon O'Reilly!
In his day the English were broken:
I weep beside Loch Sheelin and the day is long and grey!
poem by Padraic Colum
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Lochness
Grey mist drifts upon the water
the mirrored surface moves
awakened of this presence
dispelling legends proof
a beastly head of onyx
with eyes of coals of fire
it's leather hide lies glistening
ascends the head ???
whoa whoa whoa(echo)
this legend lives through centuries
evoking history's memories
prevailing in eternities_
on and on and on
Lochness Confess_
your terror of the deep
Lochness distress_
?? lingers what you keep
Lochness protect monstrosity
Lochness confess to me
somehow it heeds the piper
from battlements that call
from side to side it ponders
in passion in the skull
this islands lair of mystery, mystery
contains a lost world empathy
resilient smooth discovery
on and on and on
Lochness Confess_
your terror of the deep
Lochness distress_
?? lingers what you keep
Loch Ness protect monstrosity
Loch Ness confess to me
This legend lives through centurys
This legend lives through centurys
Evoking histories memories
Evoking histories memories
???? eternity
???? eternity
your secret lies safe with me
your secret lies safe with me
your secret lies save with me
this creatures peril from ??
is lost to mankind for release
A legecy to rest in peace
on and on and on
Lochness Confess
your terror of the deep
Lochness distress_
?? lingers what you keep
Lochness protect monstrosity
Lochness confess to me
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baldovan
The scenery of Baldovan
Is most lovely to see,
Near by Dighty Water,
Not far from Dundee.
'Tis health for any one
To be walking there,
O'er the green swards of Baldovan,
And in the forests fair.
There the blackbird and the mavis
Together merrily do sing
In the forest of Baldovan,
Making the woodlands to ring.
'Tis delightful to hear them
On a fine summer day,
Carolling their cheerful notes
So blythe and so gay.
Then there's the little loch near by,
Whereon can be seen every day
Numerous wild ducks swimming
And quacking in their innocent play.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Kaleidoscopic Fog
I walked through a kaleidoscopic fog early on a spring
morning in 1996. The sun was just rising. The fog had
set a stage and our star presented its golden light,
with its rays continually in motion in the midst of the fog.
I had seen a beautiful golden glow from my dining
room--window--which seemed to beckon me to the
show. I grasped at my chance, so fortunate was I in
the potential of fulfillment. I had a camera, and it had a film!
So quickly my feet had moved me, from the house onto
the grass that it seemed as though my feet had wings!
I clicked each picture into a memory.
song - Snow on The River (ii)
I saw your eyes in pale blue lines you’d posted out of Oban
And breathlessly I kissed your words: all that I could hold then
But if I listen to the night I sometimes hear the chords
In the smoke that bends away from the fire of your words
In the Gallery at Kelvingrove I saw you on the wall
Your face in every picture-frame on both sides of the hall
And in your eyes, wild holiness; the kind I could believe
Like the waves that break upon the west coast of Tiree
I stopped a while at Flannan Isle for Christmas, eighty four
And found the dream that dreamers weave unravelled on the floor
The food was on the table still, but all the birds had flown
It was like you’d never been, as I stood there on my own
And once by Chapelrossan house while you were sat beside me
On the wrong side of the white line, your eyes became the sea
The moon was full above Lang Rig, the trees were silver white
I was just your chaperone, and you my weakness for the night
It’s so long since I held you close it might have been a dream
Though all the moments we once shared still seem so real to me
I spent an evening in your house long after you were gone
But some part of you still lingers between the painted walls
Sometimes I see you strolling on the lane beside the White loch
Down where the ghosts of you and I once took themselves to walk
You’re always in the distance though I wait for you to close
Until geese curve down in darkness where water grasses grow
T’was on the isle of Islay heading westwards from Bridgend
The sun was on the ocean, and Kilmeny filled my head
I heard your voice by Loch Gorm side break through the veil of time
And it took me back to Glasgow when you were by my side
On the High Row in Port Logan it was just a fleeting glance
That launched me back through time and space to where it all began
A simple village hall, where simple dreaming filled the air
But my love, I don’t know you now; tomorrow’s all we share
Scottish Names in Oxford County
We have the Murray and McKay
From the country of Lord Rae ; *
McKenzie too from many a loch,
From Dingwall, Fain, and old Dornoch.
*Lord Rae, chief of the clan McKay. The family formerly owned large estates
in Sutherland, which they lost. The present Lord Rae was born in Holland,
and he married a rich lady with an estate near Edinburgh. He is one of the
foremost scientific men in Britain at the present time, and he frequently presides
at assemblies both in London and Edinburgh for the advancement of education
and science.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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