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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required AN INDEPENDENT SCOTLAND? (Or, Beware The English) by Damian on June 15, 2014. © Damian Cranney, All rights reserved An independent Scotland, That will do just fine, We no longer have to listen To the Scots familiar line. Whatever woe that Land has had, Is laid at Englands Door, But if you analyse the truth, We’re being blamed, what for? More Scotsmen have been killed by Scots, That’s no lie, William Wallace, his history, Perverted by Gibson, did die. Betrayed by the Bruce, Who took the crown at Scone, After killing, John Comyn, Who had the right, to the throne. What about, the bonnie brave lads, Abandoned at Culloden, With empty bellies, and broken hearts, Their prince they saw depart. A third of those they faced were Scots, Some Irish and some German, Cumberland, commanded, Officers were usually called , Campbell or Urquart. Clan rivalry has a lot to answer, Especially at Glencoe, The Campbells and Macdonalds Considered each a foe. But Macdonald was polite to guests. Who’d disturbed him from his bed, With instructions to arrest him, The Campbells killed them all instead The clearances took place, Run by, local Scottish factors, Employed by landlords who were Scots, Not English detractors. The worst one of all Was a lawyer born in Moray, Patrick Sellar, was his name, And it’s Scotland he put to shame. Scotland was a barren place, For crofters of that, stoic race, That is why they fled the land, And yes it was a big disgrace. But if the bleak and wild terrain Proved hard their families to maintain, Why is an Englishman to blame, When foreign soil can’t, life, sustain. Before we joined together, In unhappy unity, Our security was always threatened, By our old north enemy. Whoever hated England, Found a friend and ally there, The answer was the union, In which we both can share. Make no mistake security Was why we joined together, If Scotland is a foreign state, It could be viewed as an open gate. The natural progression will be, Border controls for you and me, On a personal note I’ll stop the scotch, My favour will be, for Irish whiskey
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