Bones are creaking on the moor,
Sprites are chapping every door,
Who will write our battle lore?
While all around are dying.
Children killed from spot to spot
Mothers too reduced to nought
Who can hear the pibroch sound?
Where our men are lying?
Oh! Homage to the British State
It was you that taught the world to hate
You have sealed your untimely fate
With murder and oppression
See our flags as they unfurl
See our marches as they curl
Hear the slogans that we hurl
We are headed for succession!
Still your guns are so unfair
Now with drones that foul the air
But our bones will creak nae mair!
From Culloden down to Yemen
Smeddum's Hotpotch 