the curse of scotland

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the curse of scotland

Postby Izabella Lopez de Cinead » Mon Oct 13, 2008 6:53 pm

I found this today and thought that people might appreciate it.
Music at


Curse of Scotland (or 'Somewhere Else') . . . .back.gif (1450 bytes)

This song was the result of an enforced abandonment of a caravan holiday somewhere in the north-west of Scotland.
Lyrics of 'The Curse of Scotland' are ©Alistair Reid.
Use them if you wish, but if you do, please credit the author and mention this website.

I was born and bred in Scotland, and I’m very proud to be,
a native of this country, where the air is clean and free.
It’s fine to be in Scotland, but the itch is gettin’ worse
For out among the countryside, I met wi’ Scotland’s curse

It hides among the bushes, and it lurks among the grass,
Beside the Loch and up the hill, it waits for you to pass.
The one that’s first to find you, soon will tell three million more.
And suddenly the swarm descends, each one a carnivore.

Quite soon they’re getting in your hair, and always up your nose,
And in your ears and in your eyes, and underneath your clothes.
They’ll suck your blood and soon those itchy, spots will start to swell.
The spots join up when you’re in bed, you’ll think you’ve gone to hell.

So you’ll go and ask the chemist for the latest kind of spray.
That’s tried and tested, even proved, to keep the pest away.
And plastered ower wi’ midgey cream, that smells so very bad,
You’ll flap your arms and run around, and act as if you’re mad

You’ll button up your clothes, and buy, the famous midgey hood,
It’s guaranteed to stop you, from becoming midgey food.
But save yourself the trouble, for the time will come to pass,
when a midge will crawl right up your leg, and bite you on the Knee.

The tourists often wonder why, the kilt is seldom seen,
And Scottish accent never heard, in places they have been.
For at winter’s end, the Scots all go to Teneriffe, or Spain.
And they leave behind the midges, and the cold, and wind, and rain.

Now I think I’ve found the cure at last, my itching now has ceased.
No longer am I willing, to provide a midgey feast.
For I changed my job and moved away, to London I’ve gone down.
Cos I reckon even midges couldn’t live in London Town

I had bites on my fingers and bites on my thumb
bites on my belly and bites on my bum
And somewhere else -and somewhere else -and somewhere else --etc.
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Izabella Lopez de Cinead
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