Chee yearn uh, ha mee doo lich ……(lord, I am sorry) this is the deil’s work, no mine, chee yearn uh come hither, he’s locked me ticht in darkness for an oor or is it twa? am nae masel and look yon hons n erms are clertit wi blood n gutters, a this this for Alba?
The cauld air scaulds ma lugs and my chest is heavy wi burden, ma breeth is reekin and thick like brose, and the voice inside ma heid is screamin, but nae words pass a bin my lips, I cannae mak heid nor tail o it cos ma senses ill me like the noise fae a thoosan thrashin whips.
Im sparket like a smiddies forge, and the burnins piercin deep ….fae ma chest doon tae ma laigs the cuts begin tae weep ……..an at ma feet lays a crabbit looking bugger wi an exe in his knee ….nae noise, nae time o day…..his lichts are a oot nae thanks tae me.
The next thing my ein can see is a heather laden blood soaked tapestry, and then the reality hits hame a bin the naggin pain, I’ve seen this work afore, dirsty bastard, dirty tricks this is the work of that hoor o a painter ……Auld Nick.
100 sins are hittin hame, kin and horses hurt and lame, There’s sour slaes abin these dreels, pechit n fleggit noo their the deils feels and in the burn its hurlin reed like bishops feed, and now the skirlin n wheeking is brakin ma drums and dirlin ma heid, yon time is noo for hivins plea…let them be Chee yearn uh let them be
Stop yer fashin its oer noo we’ve sent them Ben the hoose, flags o his land and coats o his bidders are bent and scabbit fae the gile o a scots man shidders, nae fiert n gallas a man is he, the lord has heard his merciful plea and rid them of Edwards tyrnany.
Tapa Lev, Chee Yearn uh. Tapa Lev (thank you lord, Thank you)