I
Am The Clansman
Since Mel Gibson's
movie each child is aware
Of how a brave Scotsman can fight like a bear
Defiant of death and beloved of his love
He dies shouting "Freedom" and other cool stuff.
But the playwright
and Mel got everything wrong
Not to William Wallace the praise does belong.
So listen now closely and Cathar will tell
How Scotland was saved and the English got hell.
A highlander
bold with blonde hair to his hips
Was bonny McBrayne, with a laugh on his lips
He enthralled all the lassies if only he chose
They fell for his body, his eyes and his nose.
McBrayne was
a husbandman tilling the land
He also had cattle, some sheep and he spent
His evenings not drinking the whiskey and ale
But making good cheer for the folks in his dale.
The clansmen
all knew that McBrayne was indeed
A man who loved ballads and drummed a cool beat
His drumkit he'd fashioned from cowhide himself
And also his sticks, since the tendr' age of twelve.
One day, Ed
the Longshanks (McGoohan, that is)
Decided to take over Scotland and his
Sweet daughter-in-law (pretty Sophie Marceau)
Got Wallace all horny, drooling "Gentle dame, ohhh!"
Till this day
every Scotsman is thankful McBrayne
Said "Fuck my old boots, this drooling's insane.
Our bonny old country's invaded by thugs
I'll teach you a drumbeat, my fellas", he chugs.
When Wallace
at last and some bloke called "the Bruce"
(not Dickinson, mind you, McFadyen) did choose
To meet England's army and cross a few swords
McBrayne donned his kilt and left home without shorts.
This Scotsman,
you see, had incredible balls
He feared neither cold, nor the heat of the halls
Unlike a young maiden, of iron he was
He even went barefoot through bog and wet grass.
Coming back
to the story: McBrayne put his drums,
His cymbals and pedals on the heath and comes
Towards Bobbie Bruce who's quite nervous this day
He likes a big audience, but what can I say?
This audience of Englishmen, he understood soon,
Is pretty unwilling to scream to his tune.
McBrayne says
his "well, well, well"-intro and grins
"Come on, my dear Brucey, stop biting your shins.
I'll teach them ole Englishmen ere falls the night
Us Scotsmen do know how to drum up a fight.
Pretend you
are fleeing and by this old ruse
Get the soldiers to follow you. Make sure you use
The path that leads straight to my drumkit up here
I'll wait for you and I'll take over from there."
The Bruce is
contented, his hide he can save
And Wallace is busy with French love (how brave!)
The plan's executed, the English approach
With thundering horse hooves, the king in a coach.
When there
on a height - oh hell, what a sight!
They behold a dervish, the devil's delight.
A fiery sunset as sparkling background
With eerie long shadows McBrayne shakes the ground
He's laughing, he's sweating, his mouth is agape
He's pounding his drumkit - a raving mad ape!
The horses
in horror stampede and go wild
The horsemen are trampled, they cry like a child
The king's coach is crushed among bodies and hooves
McBrayne goes on pounding those rolling hell grooves
Most soldiers
lie dying, some others can flee
The Scotsmen triumphant are shouting with glee:
"McBrayne you are surely the bravest at heart
This teddy we'll give you today as reward."
Sev'nhundered
years later a descendant of him
Is lying in bed and is having a dream.
All tight, in his arms Michael Henry, I swear
Is holding a teddy, his Niclas the Bear.
(written on
April 14th 2004)