Shades of Alba

You can keep your toon to wander roon, you can keep your cities fair,
you can keep your land-locked lakes and lochs, cos the place to stand and stare,
is where the sand and rock strewn shore, meet the pools of foam filled life,
where the breakers beat and the seagulls scream and the wind cuts like a knife.

Aff ye go ye romantic lud, yer winds are full of pain,
for colours on the hills abound and life comes wae the rain,
where the heather's green, the bracken's brown and the mosses every hue,
where the land beneath my feet is sod and the earth is rich and true.

Yer both of ye well aff the mark, ye've held our country down,
the place tae see the heart of man is the city and the town,
where brick and mortar fashioned lives, where the smiddies' hammer's call,
formed ships of steel from caloused hands that made this world so small.

Whit's a' this row yer spouting forth, wae selfish ignorance,
Yer senses miss the subtleties of nature’s simple dance,
Each step and twirl, each bow and spin, each partner on the floor,
Is touched by music's haunting spell and the sum of parts is more.

For no wan colour shades the map, no wan contour its height,
No wan sound and no wan voice has a stranglehold on right,
We're like a friggin' jig-saw, in a state that's been confused,
The task's to find the place to put those bits we huvnae used.