Skip to Content Skip to Navigation

Alan Brown: Music


(Alan Brown)
(What began as a pipe dream is becoming more real with every passing day. Dream on!)

As I look back down the ages
At the history books' pages
I find that every stage is marked with blood
A catalogue of battle
Where they slaughtered men like cattle
From Flodden's field of gore to Flanders mud

You can con me with your story
Of pro patria mori
But there's precious little glory in your claim
For the lads were young and willing
To kiss the bible, take the shilling
And find the road that led sae far frae hame

Caledonia dreaming in the sun
Servant to no master and master to no one
A brand new day will find us
With the shadows far behind us
Caledonia dreaming - and the dream is near

Can you wonder how a nation
That filled the world with its creations
Could stand in trepidation of being free?
But I pay no heed to fashion
My songs are songs of passion
And my poet's words my only legacy

I would rather be respected
For the songs that I'd collected
Or the stories resurrected from the grave
Than be vilified by mothers
For killing sons and brothers
While the floodlit piper plays Scotland the Brave