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Freedom Come Aa Ye

Hamish Henderson
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La versione dei Fairport Convention, nel disco “House Full –...

Freedom Come All Ye

Rough the wind in the clear day’s dawning
Blowing cloud billows heaving 'cross the bay
But there’s more than the wind a-blowing
Through the Great Valleys of the world today

It’s a wind that would cause our masters
Tyrants who think themselves so fine and gay
Blown away to some distant island
Where no more will they have their way

Never more will our country’s finest
March to war at some liar’s hollow cry
Nor will children from town or country
Mourn the men sailing off to fight and die

Broken families in lands we conquered
Will curse 'Scotland the Brave' no more, no more
Black and white will be one together
Strike the slums and their landlords sore

So come all you who love your freedom
Don’t believe those who preach their tales of doom
In your house all the children dwelling
Will find bread, drink and gen-rous room

When MacLean comes home to greet us
Rose and cherry will blossom in the morn
And a black lad from old Nyanga
Breaks the cruel power of the tyrants down

BATTLE OF THE SOMME

Rough the wind in the clear day's dawning
Blows the clouds heels for gowdie ow'r the bay
But there's mair nor a rough wind blawing
Through the great glen o' the world a' day
It's a thought that will garrow rottens
A' thae rogues that ken gallus, fresh and gay
Tak' the road and see gallus loanins
For they're ill 'ployed tae sport and play

Nae mair would the bonnie callants
March tae war when our braggarts crousely craw
Nor wee weans frae parteen and clachan
Mourn the ships sailing doon the Broomielaw
Broken faimlies in lands we've herriet
Will curse Scotland the Brave nae mair, nae mair
Black and white ane til ither mairriet
Mak' the vile barracks o' thier masters bare

So come all ye at hame wi' freedom
Never heed what the huddies croak for doom
In your hoose a' the bairns o' Adam
Can find bread, barley bread and painted room
When Maclean meets wi' his friens in Springburn
A' the roses and geens will turn tae bloom
And a black boy frae off Nyanga
Ding the fell gallows o' the burghers' doon


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