Please, bonnie Scotland, don’t walk away;
You’re part of this island, your banks and braes.
Your blue hills and heather, and dappled glens,
Would not be happy away from your friends.
Your highlands and mountains are a pleasure to see,
Sweeping down glens to the wild blue sea.
Your forests and lochs are the pride of the north,
Hiding wild deer, and shy Nessie of course.
This island’s not perfect and may never be,
But it’s better than most other lands over the sea.
Its people are bonded by love, hate and war,
And produced a great empire, never seen before.
Through two world wars we stood as one,
Shoulder to shoulder, we did not run.
We faced many challenges, sailed many rough seas,
And, yes, we’ve lifted this land off her knees.
Should you go and break this bond,
We’d wish you well, but would not understand.
Remember, those whom you leave will not fail,
But we’ll welcome the Scots from beyond the pale.