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Freedom Come All Ye 
Freedom Come All Ye (Hamish Henderson) 
Roch the wind in the clear days dawin Blows the cloods heelstre-gowdie ow'r the bay But there's mair nor a roch wind blawin Through the great glen o' the warld the day. It's a thocht that will gar oor rottans A' they rogues that gang gallus, fresh and gay Tak the road, and seek ither loanins For their ill ploys, tae sport and play. 
Nae mair will the bonnie callants Mairch tae war when oor braggarts crousely craw Nor wee weans frae pit-heid 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; Back and white, ane ti ither mairriet, Mak the vile barracks o' thier maisters bare. 
O come all ye at hame wi' Freedom, Never heid whit the hoodies croak for doom. In your hoose a' the bairnes o' Adam Can find breid, barley-bree and painted room. When Maclean meets wi's friens in Springburn, A' the roses and geens will turn tae bloom, And a black boy frae yont Nyanga Dings the fell gallows o' the burghers doon. 
Copyright Hamish Henderson From Chapbook, vol 3 no 6 tune: Bloody Fields of Flanders SOF