Land of my Birth Mist shrouded Highlands And Pines looking down On deep green Glens. Jagged Coasts And Rugged Ilses The taste of salt Upon the winds. The cry of Eagles and The rushing sound Of clear cold burns Tumbling o'er the rocks Cascading down to the Dark waiting Lochs. The skirl of Pipes And the lilting brogue Of the Scottish Folk.
Mist and the folk who were cleared off thir land for sheep.The sadness of the defeat at Culloden at the "butchery" that occured after it. The anger that we are not an independent nation yet and the destruction of shipbuilding , steel making and other industries. The disappontment that oil found off our shores did not get used for the betterment of our nation. The pride in many inventions that have changed the world.
"We are the last people on earth, the last to be free": Calgacus