The Red Hackle – Anon
The late Ernie Anderson sang this song in my parents house in Manse Crescent on Hogmanay over 50 years ago and I’m grateful to his widow Ruby for providing the words. Now listen and I’ll tell you a story Of a boy who was taken from home Just to fight for his King and his […]
The Pitlochry Fourball Part 2 – Exile
Part 2 The story o’ Wee Jimmy Back in the clubhouse after the game, Things started off remarkably tame, “We’ll just have a pint before we go hame, Just one or two beers, While Mike and Camsie had more o’ the same, Me an’ Archie disappeared, It was warm in Pitlochry wae the sun on […]
The Pitlochry Fourball – Exile
Part 1 The story o’ Camsie The night before had ta’en its’ toll, And numbed the senses o’ our soul, Through boozy haze we made a plan, And we agreed that tae a man, We’d play golf at Pitlochry, The smell of breakfast filled the air, ‘Teroan’ was famous for its’ fare, We ‘rose and […]
The Minister’s Tale – Exile
(With apologies to Gilbert & Sullivan) I am the very model of a 1950’s MinisterDevout, crusading, preaching, praying, ecclesiastic characterSartorially resplendent, dressed in black, I look quite sinister,I am the very model of a 1950’s Minister Don’t call me Pastor, Father, Priest, for that resembles PoperyWe don’t like Baptists, Mormons, Jews, not part of our […]
The Last o’ the Donny-Wully’s – Exile
A sad farewell tae Donny, the last remaining Donny-Wully, One o’ Stanleys notorious twins and son of legendary ‘Cully’, He and his brother Wully, were an identical, inimitable pair, They thought alike an’ fought alike, went through life without care, Aye they could fight like tigers, an’ they could drink like fish, Arrive in Perth […]
The Lass From Ballathie’s Revenge
There is an old ballad entitled ‘The Weary Coble o’ Cargill’ which relates the tragic love story of a young woman from the farm-toun of Ballathie on one side of the Tay who loved a young man who worked at Stobhall on the other side of the river. Stobhall was at this time the residence […]
The Landlord’s Tale – Exile
Pom–pom, pom-pom, goes the tune, Three pints of ‘heavy’, half a crown, Window up, trousers doon, Bare yer backside tae the moon, That’s the practice of which he’s fond, Baring his buttocks to the Curling Pond, While the boys are playing darts, He’s letting the air around his parts, Now was it fact or was […]
The Eleven O’Clock Bus – Exile
Now ye’ couldnae tell a tale about Stanley, And no mention the eleven o’clock bus, And the potential there was for trouble, Once it had arrived at ‘The Cross’ At ten past eleven on a Saturday night, The last bus from Perth would appear, With a cargo o’ passengers rich in character, Wha’ invariably had […]
The Curly Puddick – Exile
The Curly Puddick was on his own , just whaur’ he liked to be, Secure and shaded on his island stone, in the shadow o’ the lone ash tree, But the puddick wasnae’ lonely, this gregarious little chiel,’ Befriended newts an’ frogs an’ sticklebacks, ‘Red breasties’, ‘Beardies’ an eels, The Curling Pond was his domain, […]
The Constable’s Tale – Exile
(With apologies to Gilbert & Sullivan) I am a very model of a 1950’s ConstableConsistent, caring, impressive bearing, totally respectableIn black and white I kick the shite from the village disreputableI am a very model of a 1950’s Constable There’s one or two, of the village crew, where I’m especially vigilantThe ‘Dark Destroyer’, his own […]