scotland for all

Spires of stone mark this place
Where the bleating of the yowes
Blends with the cackle of painted puffins

This is a place of wonder and prayer
Where the cold clings to your heart
Calling the silent faithful to kneel

A place where the sun teases laughter
And time allows a respite of days
When whiskey flows casually and fair

Before the ever grasping English
Eager descendants of Saxon stock
Had hung their demands from swords

Before the Norsemen had landed
To pillage and plunder and finally
To settle old scores with blood

Before the clans of Caledonia had arisen
And bloody feuds and ceaseless war
Had stained this beautiful land

Even before the Picts their cairns
Had mournfully raised over the dead
Or bowed their heads to Ninian’s plea

There was this—a country shaped by God
Scotland, not for one people alone
But for all who give it their hearts