Crua Chan

By the left, quick march
Crua chan!

It was seven hundred and forty-five
The highland spirit had revived
Mac Dougall and Mac Donald there
The clans had come from everywhere, singing

I smell the blood of a Englishman
Come on London, here we come

We went all the way down south
We were frothening at the mouth
Coming down to Derby town
We'd beaten everyone around, singing

I smell the blood of a Englishman
Come on Englans, here we come
Singing!

Ended at Culloden moor
Feeling bad and feeling poor
The redcoats had chased us there
There we died and there we stayed, singing

I smell the blood of a Scotsman
United Kingdom, here we come
Yeah

The bonnie prince has gone home
He's never gonna come back
The bonnie prince has gone home
He's never gonna come back

We'll do to you at Wembley
We'll do it to you in pubs
With the Scottish louts larking about
Here come your rats... cruachan lad