I wish I lived in Scotland br Och, aye, in a wee stone house, br Maybe in a valley or on a bit of land br Somewhere in the Borders of the south. br br I donna put a name on it br Where I can wander down the burns, br Search and study stones in cairns, br Explore the hidden mystery of it. br br Where the waves are mountains, br Flowing currents of bluebells, br rippling waters streaking with a dusky gold, br Sweeping winds that stories tell, br br Where I can eat some kippers, br Or just drink a glass of Laphroaig, br Visit with the Old Man of Hoy, br Chat with pretty Polly from Dervaig, br br Touch the waters of Alberlady Sands br With my own two hands, br Hear the baa baa of the sheep, br Dream of druids in my sleep. br br I wish I were a Scotsman. br Hooh, boy, that would be br With my name the highest in the land, br But I’ll never a son of the soil be. br br I be quite honest wi’ ye, br Nae time for pretendin’ like, br I do no have the courage like br those Scotsmen and their fighting stuff.