Fishing boats in Auchmithie harbour
AUCHMITHIE
There's a wee fishing village on the shores of the North Sea,
Once famous for smoked haddock and they ca'd it Auchmithie;
I don't know where this name came from or what it really means,
But once ye know Auchmithie ye'll see it in your dreams.
It was there that I wis born many, many years ago,
In a wee old stone cottage overlooking the round-o,
Wi the cliffs sae high and rugged, washed by wild seas from below,
Such a place ye will ne'er see, no matter where ye go.
For I've been around Loch Lomond and Tobermoray Bay,
Inverary and Loch Fyne and all along the way;
But the bonniest spot that I've seen and aye will be tae me,
Is the rocks and cliffs and green braes o ma dear home Auchmithie.
c 1981 J. Reid & N. Buick pub Springthyme Music.
GUISE O TOUGH
I cam in be Alford,
An for tae get a fee,
An there I met wi Jamie Broon,
An there we did agree.
Tum a hi tum doo, a hi tum day,
Hi tum a diddle tum a hi tum day.
Well I agreed wi Jamie Broon,
In the year o ninety one,
Tae gang hame and caw his second pair,
An be his orraman.
When I cam hame tae Guise o Tough,
It was an evenin clear,
Oot aboot some orra hoose,
The gaffer did appear.
Says, "I'm the maister o the hoose,
An that's the mistress here;
If ye want some breid an cheese,
Ye'll shairly get yer share."
Then I gaed tae the stable,
Ma pairie for tae view;
Fegs they were a dandy pair,
A chestnut and a blue.
Then early next mornin,
I gaed tae the ploo;
Lang, lang e'er lowsin time,
Ma pairie gart me rue.
Tum a hi tum doo, a hi tum day,
Hi tum a diddle tum a hi tum day.
Ma ploo she wisna workin weel,
It widna thraw the fur;
The gaffer says, "There's a better een,
At the smiddy tae gang for."
When I got hame, the new ploo,
She pleased me unco weel;
I thocht she wid be better,
Gin she had a cuttin wheel.
Ma song's no nearly ended,
But I'll no sing ony more;
If ye be offended,
Ye can walk ootside the door.
Tum a hi tum doo, a hi tum day,
Hi tum a diddle tum a hi tum day.
CATHERINE STREET
Ae day I wandered aa alane,
Ma thochts contrived tae mak me greet;
It wis on a wee bit skelp o grund,
That aince wis kent as Catherine Street.
The demolition squad's been there,
And every stick an stane they cleared;
They said the hooses were nae fit,
For modern faimilies tae be reared.
I suppose I must agree wi them,
The conveniences I'm sure were bad;
Bit the fowk in thae auld days lang syne,
They hae made the maist o what they had.
And as I lingered there a while,
Ma sadness slowly turned tae joy;
When mindin on the pals I had,
An the games we played when just a boy.
At pinner and pig an kick-the-can,
At closie-heiders an aa the rest;
Or at the fitba in the street,
The Craithie lads could beat the best.
Then we'd slip in tae Mrs. Pike's,
That's if we'd money tae oor name;
An a penny vantis we would buy,
Tae refresh us for another day.
In the march o time aa things must change,
Aa for the best, or so they say;
But sometimes I think it wid be braw,
If the clocks could go back for just a day.
c 1981 J. Reid pub Springthyme Music.
TRAMPS AND HAWKERS
Ah come aa ye tramps and hawkin lads, ye gaitherers o blaw,
That tramps the country roon an roon, come listen ane an aa;
I'll tell tae you a roving tale o sichts that I hae seen,
Far up intae the snowy north and doon by Gretna Green.
Oft times I've laughed untae masel when trudgin on the road,
Ma toe rag roon ma blistered feet, ma face as broon as the toad;
Wi lumps o breid an tattie scones an dauds o braxy ham,
No gie'n a thocht tae whaur I've been or yet tae whaur I'm gaun.
I hae seen the high Ben Lomond a-towrin tae the moon,
I've been by Crieff and Callander an roon by bonnie Doon;
I've seen Loch Ness's silvery tides an places ill tae ken,
Far up intae the snowy North lies Urquhart's fairy glen.
An I've done my share o humpin wi the dockers on the Clyde,
I've helped the Buckie trawlers haul their herrin ower the side;
I've helped tae build the mighty bridge that spans the Firth o Forth,
An wi mony an Angus fairmer's rig I've ploughed the bonny earth.
But I'm happy in the summer time beneath the clear blue sky,
No thinkin in the morning whaur at nicht I'm gaun tae lie;
In barn or byre or onywhere, dossin oot amang the hay,
And if the wea
ther keeps me richt I'll be happy ilka day.
c 1981 trad. arr. J. Reid pub Springthyme Music.
Credits:
Recordings by Tom Spiers. Production by Peter Shepheard.
All songs copyright control composed or arranged Jim Reid.
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