Singing Scotland's Future and Past

Lyrics by John Robertson music by suno AI

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Retired Professor of Media Politics Not-for-profit independent political analysis

  • The heavy price we paid for a place they said was forever England

    John Robertson

    Inspired by Patrick Watt’s Manpower, Myth and Memory: Analysing Scotland’s Military Contribution to the Great War in the Journal of Scottish Historical Studies, on 24th May 2019: https://talkingupscotlandtwo.com/2025/11/10/on-remembrance-sunday-peer-reviewed-research-proves-that-scotlands-ww1-army-war-dead-was-a-greater-sacrifice-63-higher-than-the-rest-of-the-uk/

    To hear it click on: https://suno.com/s/6964A2S8wGvdm1u9

    Lyrics:

    The heavy price we paid for a place they said was forever England

    At Mons in nineteen fourteen we were all there

    The Camerons, Argyles, Guards and Black Watch

    Outnumbered three to one we retreated in good order

    But lost many, far too many, on the way back

    From Mons to the Somme we paid a bloody price

    For places poets told would be forever England

    For places we paid a far greater price than them

    From Mons to the Somme ninety thousand dead

    We were always there to stiffen the line and facethem

    Told to walk toward their machine guns with our pipes

    We knew then like our forebears we paid a greater price

    But were told it was just another proud Scottish myth

    From Mons to the Somme we paid a bloody price

    For places poets told would be forever England

    For places we paid a far greater price than them

    From Mons to the Somme ninety thousand dead

    It was a hundred years before the truth could be told

    When a man could count and compare all the dead

    To find we died in greater numbers on the front line

    92 000 dead to win another of England’s wars

    From Mons to the Somme we paid a bloody price

    For places poets told would be forever England

    For places we paid a far greater price than them

    From Mons to the Somme ninety thousand dead

  • Power to the people we were among the first to call – Our king is chosen by the people and not by the Lord

    John Robertson

    Inspired by the words of the Treaty of Arbroath 1320 AD.

    To hear it, click on: https://suno.com/s/TUakzBPpAbOvJegN

    Lyrics:

    In Thirteen Twenty we had it written by men of God

    In a place where a mighty river meets the German sea

    And sent to The Holy Father, the Bishop of Rome

    To affirm we are not subject to the lordship of England

    Power to the people we were among the first to call

    Our king is chosen by the people and not by the Lord

    If he does not defend us well we may choose another

    Power to the people the land and the waters are ours

    We told him we would not give up our freedom

    That it’s not for glory nor riches nor honours

    Like any honest man we fight only for freedom

    And will fight to the end to the last man for it

    Power to the people we were among the first to call

    Our king is chosen by the people and not by the Lord

    If he does not defend us well we may choose another

    Power to the people the land and the waters are ours

    We have been a people for a thousand years

    Longer than our neighbours who would end us

    We have fought for our border longer than any

    But in 1707 were betrayed by our own

    Power to the people we were among the first to call

    Our king is chosen by the people and not by the Lord

    If he does not defend us well we may choose another

    Power to the people the land and the waters are ours

    In 1745 we tried for the last time to break the Union

    Defeated robbed burned and cast to distant parts

    For many years our words and ways despised

    Our hopes have lain low in a world of their lies

    Power to the people we were among the first to call

    Our king is chosen by the people and not by the Lord

    If he does not defend us well we may choose another

    Power to the people the land and the waters are ours

    But now, as the Empire fades, we remember

    We are not the same, we want a better world

    Away from the hard edges of their cruel ways

    Back to the freedoms we claimed by the German Sea

    Power to the people we were among the first to call

    Our king is chosen by the people and not by the Lord

    If he does not defend us well we may choose another

    Power to the people the land and the waters are ours

  • From the city of Saint Bride to the streets of Saint James we denied Maggie Thatcher

    John Robertson

    A song inspired by the East Kilbride engineers who kept half of General Pinochet’s bombers on the ground and save many lives in Chile.

    Three AI-assisted versions, click on:


    https://suno.com/s/ar9Y3eKAtveY9zlB

    https://suno.com/s/EcqsmWQDOX8e8wIF

    https://suno.com/s/kAc43p1TflRTozWW

    Lyrics:

    From the city of Saint Bride to the streets of Saint James

    As the leaves fell in 1973 we watched our engines roar

    In the skies over Santiago they worked to help bomb a people’s palace

    From a country where the people have a say they were sold to a Nazi

    His men killed and tortured many thousands, trade unionists like us

    From the city of Saint Bride to the streets of Saint James we would not let them go

    He wanted the engines we made for planes to murder his very own people

    From the city of Saint Bride to the streets of Saint James we denied Maggie Thatcher

    She wanted to help the fascist killer General impose his dark and evil will

    When we saw that they were soon bound for murder in the streets

    We marked them black and none would make them ready to go

    They lay rusting as Thatcher fumed and worked to help the bastards

    When they were stolen by dark forces they would not ever fly

    From the city of Saint Bride to the streets of Saint James we would not let them go

    He wanted the engines we made for planes to murder his very own people

    From the city of Saint Bride to the streets of Saint James we denied Maggie Thatcher

    She wanted to help the fascist killer General impose his dark and evil will

    We kept half of his bomber on the ground to save the lives of many

    We live to this day proud to have done what we could

    Like our ancestors who went to fight General Franco

    We were a part of what make Scotland the brave

    From the city of Saint Bride to the streets of Saint James we would not let them go

    He wanted the engines we made for planes to murder his very own people

    From the city of Saint Bride to the streets of Saint James we denied Maggie Thatcher

    She wanted to help the fascist killer General impose his dark and evil will

  • A Lament for Emma Caldwell and the Three Hundred

    Inspired by the opening of the inquiry into the murder of Emma Caldwell on 9 December 2025 and her shameful treatment by both Strathclyde Police and the Scottish Government, twenty years ago (!), I posted on Talking-up Scotland (link at foot of page) and wrote these lyrics then performed by suno AI.

    To hear the song click on https://suno.com/s/AwJgE0z5Ku2SutFN

    Lyrics

    A young girl from the shores and hills of the west

    She was a happy child who loved horses so well

    But stricken by grief at the loss of a dear big sister

    She fell into despair, addiction and life in the city

    Emma was her name, Emma a woman like any other

    But women so little protected by the law or government

    They were abused, killed and left as if they were nothing

    Oh Emma, Emma, she was only one woman among many

    Driven to the oldest trade to pay for her dark addiction

    She was exposed to those men of the darkest desires

    She paid the highest price at the hands of a monster

    Murdered and left alone in the middle of nowhere

    Emma was her name, Emma a woman like any other

    But women so little protected by the law or government

    They were abused, killed and left as if they were nothing

    Oh Emma, Emma, she was only one woman among many

    Alone at the end but not alone on the streets of the city

    Three hundred women abused then abandoned by the law

    The abusers free to violate again and again with no fear

    They were thought of as worthless by officers of the law

    Emma was her name, Emma a woman like any other

    But women so little protected by the law or government

    They were abused, killed and left as if they were nothing

    Oh Emma, Emma, she was only one woman among many

    But it does not stop there the lack of care for their lives

    Above the officers who did nothing there were others

    Men of rank who knew well but felt the same contempt

    Above them men and women of power in the whole land

    Emma was her name, Emma a woman like any other

    But women so little protected by the law or government

    They were abused, killed and left as if they were nothing

    Oh Emma, Emma, she was only one woman among many

    Many years later they deserve recognition and justice

    From the officers to the people of power an apology

    Today we all need to know those days are really gone

    That those women today will be treated just like the rest

    Emma was her name, Emma a woman like any other

    But women so little protected by the law or government

    They were abused, killed and left as if they were nothing

    Oh Emma, Emma, she was only one woman among many

    Shame on the officers of Strathclyde Police for not caring

    Shame on their seniors who knew all but did nothing

    Shame on the lawgivers who choose not to question

    Shame on us all for accepting the contempt of victims

    Emma was her name, Emma a woman like any other

    But women so little protected by the law or government

    They were abused, killed and left as if they were nothing

    Oh Emma, Emma, she was only one woman among many

    Link to report: https://talkingupscotlandtwo.com/2025/12/09/the-emma-caldwell-public-inquiry-must-ask-if-the-scottish-labour-government-of-20-years-ago-took-its-eye-of-the-ball/

  • Charlie was not my darling no bloody way

    The colony of Scotland in 1746

    John Robertson

    Inspired by The Myth of the Jacobite Clans by Murray Pittock, Edinburgh University Press

    Song at:

    https://suno.com/s/yepr5GfbXiaDdugq

    Apologies for the AI Scots accent.

    Lyrics

    We know what you’ve been told at the school

    About the bonny prince and his wild highlanders

    Their catholic beliefs wild charges and yells

    But that was only part of the story that was

    Charlie was not my darling no bloody way

    We were there to put end to the evil Union

    We were there for our Scotland the Brave

    Charlie was not my darling no bloody way

    While the wild charges often broke their will                    

    Set them running screaming, falling in fear

    But we were trained in all the arts of war

    And armed with the very same cannon

    Charlie was not my darling no bloody way

    We were there to put end to the evil Union

    We were there for our  Scotland the Brave

    Charlie was not my darling no bloody way

    We caught them out at Prestonpans but

    When we got to Culloden we were too few

    Their many horsemen cut our gunners down

    And our hopes for a free Caledonia died

    Charlie was not my darling no bloody way

    We were there to put end to the evil Union

    We were there for our Scotland the Brave

    Charlie was not my darling no bloody way

    In the days that followed we were undone

    Every village burned and endless killing

    Denied all our ancient ways and words

    We were cleared from the land into exile

    Charlie was not my darling no bloody way

    We were there to put end to the evil Union

    We were there for our Scotland the Brave

    Charlie was not my darling no bloody way

    Red coat garrisons in a hundred places

    Thousands forced out to the far colonies

    Young men forced onto front lines to die

    An end to us, a bloody final end to us

    Charlie was not my darling no bloody way

    We were there to put end to the evil Union

    We were there for our Scotland the Brave

    Charlie was not my darling no bloody way

    Charlie was not my darling no bloody way

    We were there to put end to the evil Union

    We were there for our Scotland the Brave

    Charlie was not my darling no bloody way

  • The Ballad of Willie McCrae’s Murder

    John Robertson

    Inspired by Ron Culley‘s Firebrand:

    https://suno.com/s/2BBrJjAS8tHbzdmG

    https://suno.com/s/oa8HFNff4OnUl5Xr

    https://suno.com/s/PxUbg5PhOmsiGeP7

    The Ballad of Willie McCrae’s Murder

    Shot by his own gun driving alone on the A87 they say

    In a way that has been never done hands on the wheel

    A man with a case of dark secrets they could not allow

    He was shot by his own gun but by grip of the assassin

    A man from the mean streets of Glasgow

    He rose fast through the ranks in the war

    Coming back to serve the law and the people

    He began a fight for the rights of his ain folk

    Shot by his own gun driving alone on the A87 they say

    In a way that has been never done hands on the wheel

    A man with a case of dark secrets they could not allow

    He was shot by his own gun but by grip of the assassin

    Fighting with words against two dark forces

    Man’s hand on the fierce power of the sun

    London’s abuse of its power in his homeland

    A case with shameful secrets taken from the scene

    Shot by his own gun driving alone on the A87 they say

    In a way that has been never done hands on the wheel

    A man with a case of dark secrets they could not allow

    He was shot by his own gun but by grip of the assassin

    They say he did it himself to hide their bloody guilt

    He knew too much about the judges and Thatcher

    In fine fettle in the hours before and leaving no note

    The case for assassination holds its own ground

    Shot by his own gun driving alone on the A87 they say

    In a way that has been never done hands on the wheel

    A man with a case of dark secrets they could not allow

    He was shot by his own gun but by grip of the assassin

    Shot by his own gun driving alone on the A87 they say

    In a way that has been never done hands on the wheel

    A man with a case of dark secrets they could not allow

    He was shot by his own gun but by grip of the assassin

    The book –

    https://www.amazon.co.uk/Firebrand-Ron-Culley/dp/1803811196/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1304PPQ1XMLVF&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.5_fICEMvF94ItpsvBeFTmkaxITHoBaM5VAoA3B2KE_fSHIomQPXJtGj5cjjR97PhWec1AClKHE20Mu0dvQy-enfklHJlEQImpjh_9Nn_Kc4.5JzWv4GWwi4M_lEpSDgcuEkmdv5uaP4-ldbA3WHHYfg&dib_tag=se&keywords=Ron+Culley+firebrand&qid=1764952147&sprefix=ron+cullety+firebrand%2Caps%2C123&sr=8-1

  • Two silver wheels

    John Robertson

    Inspired by our beautiful Retriever, Belle, who needed wheels from the age of 7 but lived on fully for another 5 years.

    https://suno.com/s/dwyb3xOAK3SrYCcV

    https://suno.com/s/dwyb3xOAK3SrYCcV

    Two silver wheels to make her life go on

    To lift her wasted legs and let her be again

    Two silver wheels to make her live again

    Out in the street, the wet grass and the sea

    So young to lose everything she had

    Cut off so cruelly from her every part

    We were quick to decide it was no way

    No matter the cost she was not let go

    Two silver wheels to make her life go on

    To lift her wasted legs and let her be again

    Two silver wheels to make her live again

    Out in the street, the wet grass and the sea

    For days we waited for the smallest signs

    For little signs of life moving in silent limbs

    Never coming so we looked for another way

    Two silver wheels were brought to lift her

    Two silver wheels to make her life go on

    To lift her wasted legs and let her be again

    Two silver wheels to make her live again

    Out in the street, the wet grass and the sea

    Like the sun breaking through dark clouds

    She took to them straightaway with glee

    Charging fast here there and everywhere

    Out of house and garden never looking back

    Two silver wheels to make her life go on

    To lift her wasted legs and let her be again

    Two silver wheels to make her live again

    Out in the street, the wet grass and the sea

    Five more years, she lived it all fully

    Happy, not caring what was behind her

    She charmed the world with her ways

    A lesson in never bothering to look back

    Two silver wheels to make her life go on

    To lift her wasted legs and let her be again

    Two silver wheels to make her live again

    Out in the street, the wet grass and the sea

    Two silver wheels to make her life go on

    To lift her wasted legs and let her be again

    Two silver wheels to make her live again

    Out in the street, the wet grass and the sea

    I know, the wheels were black – creative licence?

  • No more Flowers of the Forest for me

    John Robertson

    Inspired by my lack of fondness for Flowers of the Forest with it’s characterising of rapacious thugs as flowers or for that matter, Flower of Scotland, and it’s ‘wee bit hill and glen.’

    Three versions:

    https://suno.com/s/A5d18lvmqSgDge1S

    https://suno.com/s/DuVxthlXBBCht5GO

    https://suno.com/s/SUYW2gdYzdOM3E5q

    No more Flowers of the Forest for me

    There’ll be no more Flowers of the Forests for me

    No more tears for thousands dead on Flodden Field

    I want to know just who is to blame for this disaster

    There will be no more flowers of the forest for me

    How did we lose if Jimmie the Fourth was so bloody clever?

    We were up on the high ground and more of us than them

    How did we lose if Jimmie the Fourth knew how to fight?

    Twelve thousand dead more than four times the English

    All for the French king and just to spite Henry Tudor

    In September 1513 with our clever King James,

    We were forty thousand strong on the high ground

    But our cannonballs just flew right over their heads

    And theirs flew straight and low right into our lines

    How did we lose if Jimmie the Fourth was so bloody clever?

    We were up on the high ground and more of us than them

    How did we lose if Jimmie the Fourth knew how to fight?

    Twelve thousand dead more than four times the English

    All for the French king and just to spite Henry Tudor

    The toll was high because the English took no prisoners

    You cannot blame them because we drove them to it

    For weeks our savage flowers raided their towns and villages

    Burning the towns and fields, stealing, raping and killing

    How did we lose if Jimmie the Fourth was so bloody clever?

    We were up on the high ground and more of us than them

    How did we lose if Jimmie the Fourth set loose the dogs of war?

    Twelve thousand dead more than four times the English

    All for the French king and just to spite Henry Tudor

    The so-called flowers of the forest were not our ain folk

    They were the King, his Lords and very best gentlemen

    For a change they led from the front in a mad charge

    And died with no quarter as they bloody well deserved

    How did we lose if Jimmie the Fourth was so bloody clever?

    We were up on the high ground and more of us than them

    How did we lose if Jimmie the Fourth set loose the dogs of war?

    Twelve thousand dead more than four times the English

    All for the French king and just to spite Henry Tudor

    No harm to the writer it is a fine wee song

    But it’s time to tell the truth of what went on

    We were led by donkeys as we would be again

    King James the Fourth had none of their guile

    How did we lose if Jimmie the Fourth was so bloody clever?

    We were up on the high ground and more of us than them

    How did we lose if Jimmie the Fourth had fine gentlemen?

    Twelve thousand dead more than four times the English

    All for the French king and just to spite Henry Tudor

  • On the stairs and on the hills, breathless – asbestosis

    John Robertson

    Inspired by the widespread suffering of workers and their families from the use of asbestos: https://suno.com/s/cCEESbqJkkzFdtTj

    On the stairs and on the hills, breathless

    I was right into the nooks and crannies

    I was useful because I was young and wee

    Painting, scraping and trapped in thick dust

    I had nae worries then because I was so young

    On the stairs and on the hills, we’re breathless

    There’s a fist gripped tight around my chest

    I’ll be gone long before my love and my weans

    It’ll be two score and ten if we’re bloody lucky

    I was working on great big ships o’ the line

    I was deep in places that must not burn

    I feared nothing in the bowels of Dreadnoughts

    That would keep those dreadful Germans away

    On the stairs and on the hills, we’re breathless

    There’s a fist gripped tight around my chest

    I’ll be gone long before my love and my weans

    It’ll be two score and ten if we’re bloody lucky

    Davy he was first to cough and never stop

    We heard it in his voice, rough like a saw

    Difficult to swallow the little that he wanted

    Then he was breathless and too tired to work

    On the stairs and on the hills, we’re breathless

    There’s a fist gripped tight around my chest

    I’ll be gone long before my love and my weans

    It’ll be two score and ten if we’re bloody lucky

    He was the first to go leaving us at only 52

    Jesus Bloody Christ! He was only fuckin’ 52

    I’ll be next, I swear that I can feel it coming

    We were weans together in the same school

    On the stairs and on the hills, we’re breathless

    There’s a fist gripped tight around my chest

    I’ll be gone long before my love and my weans

    It’ll be two score and ten if we’re bloody lucky

    On the stairs and on the hills, we’re breathless

    There’s a fist gripped tight around my chest

    I’ll be gone long before my love and my weans

    It’ll be two score and ten if we’re bloody lucky

  • We were promised, were promised we’d be there to do it – Waspi Women protest song

    https://www.facebook.com/groups/159642657822867

    John Robertson

    Inspired by the struggle of the Waspi women: https://suno.com/s/ro9Swatu47IGsdVU

    Punk version approved by at least one Waspi woman leader after seeing Riot Girls: https://suno.com/s/ro9Swatu47IGsdVU

    Lyrics with Wawspi so the AI could pronounce it:

    We were promised, were promised we’d be there to do it

    We trusted that we’d still be strong enough agile enough

    Strong enough to care for our parents as they weakened

    Enough to take the bairns and meet them at the school gate

    We are the Wawspi Women who wait

    For many now it’s too bloody late

    We are the Wawspi women who care

    And were denied the right to be there

    If we’re too old when it comes, we’ll be weakened too

    More often we’re in poverty, more often in sickness

    How can we help when we’ve begun to need help too

    They may not be cruel, but they just don’t understand

    We are the Wawspi Women who wait

    For many now it’s too bloody late

    We are the Wawspi women who care

    And were denied the right to be there

    It is ten years now since Westminster made it law

    Major and Lilley were the ones to tell us the news

    The country couldn’t afford the cost to help us

    Yet the tax cuts and their expenses could be met

    We are the Wawspi Women who wait

    For many now it’s too bloody late

    We are the Wawspi women who care

    And were denied the right to be there

    Then Blair and Brown took the very same line

    Cameron, May and all the fools after them too

    The latest are drowning and grasp for our hands

    But we’ve learned our lesson and will not do it

    We are the Wawspi Women who wait

    For many now it’s too bloody late

    We are the Wawspi women who care

    And were denied the right to be there

    We are the Wawspi Women who wait

    For many now it’s too bloody late

    We are the Wawspi women who care

    And were denied the right to be there

    Background:

    Labour letting the Waspi women die in poverty is just business for my local Labour MP, the BBC and BBC Scotland, as they shield Sarwar