Hey, mac, did ye see him as he cam doun by Gorgie
Awa owre the Lammerlaw an north o the Tay?
Yon man is comin an the hail toun is turnin out
We're aa shair he'll win back tae Glesca the day
The jiners an hauders-on are merchin fae Clydebank
Come on nou an hear him he'll be owre thrang tae bide
Turn out Jock an Jimmie, leave yer cranes an yer muckle gantries
Great John Maclean's comin hame tae the Clyde
Argyll St and London Road's the route that we're merchin
The lauds frae the Broomielaw are here, tae a man!
Hey Neil, whaur's yer hauderums, ye big Heilan teuchtar
Get yer pipes, mate, an merch at the heid o the clan
Hullo, Pat Malone, shair A knew ye'd be here, so,
The red an the green, laud, we'll wear side by side
Gorbals is his the day an Glesca belangs tae him
Nou great John Maclean's comin hame tae the Clyde
Forward tae Glesca Green we'll merch in guid order
Will grips his banner weill, that boy isnae blate!
Aye, weill, man, thair's Johnnie nou, that's him thair the bonnie fechter
Lenin's his feir, laud, and Liebknecht's his mate
Tak tent whan he's speakin for thae'll mind whit he said here
In Glesca, our city, an the hail warl besides
Och man the scarlet's bonnie, here's tae ye Heilan Shonie
Great John Maclean's comin hame tae the Clyde
Aye weill, whan it's feenisht A'll awa back tae Springburn
Come hame tae yer tea, John, we'll sune hae ye fed
It's hard wark the speakin, och, A'm shair he'll be tired the nicht
A'll sleep on the flair, mac, an gie John the bed
The hail city's quiet nou, it kens that he's restin
At hame wi's Glesca freens, thair fame an thair pride
The red will be worn, ma lauds, an Scotlan will merch again
Nou great John Maclean has come hame tae the Clyde
Awa owre the Lammerlaw an north o the Tay?
Yon man is comin an the hail toun is turnin out
We're aa shair he'll win back tae Glesca the day
The jiners an hauders-on are merchin fae Clydebank
Come on nou an hear him he'll be owre thrang tae bide
Turn out Jock an Jimmie, leave yer cranes an yer muckle gantries
Great John Maclean's comin hame tae the Clyde
Argyll St and London Road's the route that we're merchin
The lauds frae the Broomielaw are here, tae a man!
Hey Neil, whaur's yer hauderums, ye big Heilan teuchtar
Get yer pipes, mate, an merch at the heid o the clan
Hullo, Pat Malone, shair A knew ye'd be here, so,
The red an the green, laud, we'll wear side by side
Gorbals is his the day an Glesca belangs tae him
Nou great John Maclean's comin hame tae the Clyde
Forward tae Glesca Green we'll merch in guid order
Will grips his banner weill, that boy isnae blate!
Aye, weill, man, thair's Johnnie nou, that's him thair the bonnie fechter
Lenin's his feir, laud, and Liebknecht's his mate
Tak tent whan he's speakin for thae'll mind whit he said here
In Glesca, our city, an the hail warl besides
Och man the scarlet's bonnie, here's tae ye Heilan Shonie
Great John Maclean's comin hame tae the Clyde
Aye weill, whan it's feenisht A'll awa back tae Springburn
Come hame tae yer tea, John, we'll sune hae ye fed
It's hard wark the speakin, och, A'm shair he'll be tired the nicht
A'll sleep on the flair, mac, an gie John the bed
The hail city's quiet nou, it kens that he's restin
At hame wi's Glesca freens, thair fame an thair pride
The red will be worn, ma lauds, an Scotlan will merch again
Nou great John Maclean has come hame tae the Clyde
inviata da Dq82 - 13/11/2016 - 00:06
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Dick Ghaugan
No More Forever
John MacLean was a Scottish schoolteacher and Marxist educator who was sentenced to two years' imprisonment in 1918 for agitating against the carnage of World War 1. Due to popular outrage and demonstrations, he was released after 7 months but the harsh treatment he received in prison seriously damaged his health and he died a few years later.
His vision of an independent Scottish Socialist Republic disagreed strongly with Lenin and with Gallacher and other leading Scots Communists of the time as he was opposed to the integration of the Scots within the British Communist Party. (see : VI Lenin, 'Left Wing Communism', Willie Gallacher, 'Revolt on the Clyde' and Nan Milton's book on MacLean, whose title escapes me at the moment)