The Red Clydesiders

- [play]

Jimmy Maxton, James McDougall, Barbour, Gallacher and McShane

Agnes Dollan, Helen Crawford, up at the heid great John Maclean

These are some o' the Red Clyde siders, hundreds more I'd wish tae nane

A monument I'd raise forever, these are the flower of Scotland's fame

MacDougall fell apart in prison, came back oot a broken shell

They did the same tae young John Muir, eight lang months in the jaws of hell

His only crime was saying no tae slaughter in a rich man's war

Property is theft he said, don't die for what ye cannae live for

Rags and Tags for common folk, silk for money lenders

The old church pew, the white and blue

The kilt and the Young Pretender keep us sweirt

But what mak's them feart is wor pride in the Red Clydesiders

Every Sunday night at Bath Street John Maclean roared oot his speil

Thousands gaithered roon' tae hear him, he spak' loud and he spak' weil

Fifteen years I've been a sodger, fightin' for the cause he said

I'll no' stop now though ye might jail me, prison walls I dinnae dread

