Drink For a Scot's Land

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History says we’re drunkards, loud ones, and warriors,

And sometimes, our men are that way, too.

But with each battle won, and song that is sung,

Stands a Lady strong, gorgeous, and true.

For Her howling heights and black soil valleys,

For mist and rain that washes you clean:

I’ll challenge any taker who ignores Her beauty,

And denies all I have seen.

For Scotland, I drink tonight.

Breathe with me the air as we stand above the world,

Such ardent green valleys surrounding.

With your breast clean and full, 

your mind clears and sees

Sunset’s amber haze abounding.

Shoulders rise from the earth as boulders and bluffs,

Highlands cloaked in juniper and heather,

So by leaf, moor, and rock, 

we’re made of sturdy, valiant stock

In all our hills and ancestors have weathered.

For Her breathtaking ridges and windswept sedges,

For endless skies that beckon our gaze,

I’ll challenge any taker who ignores Her beauty,

And denies Her boldest of ways.

For Scotland, I drink tonight.

Let me run with the red deer to the drumming in my heart,

Let the boar test my insight and courage

Amid the smell of damp cedar, woodland lullabies,

And fog with quiet, ancient promise.

Let me run with the red deer to the drumming in my heart,

Let the boar test my insight and courage

Amid the smell of damp cedar, woodland lullabies,

And fog with quiet, ancient promise.

May your path find the banks of our clearwater lochs,

Stretched for miles between guardian mountains.

In their reflection, you’ll find a mirror of time:

What you are, will be, and have always been. 

For Her towering pines and their haunting wonder,

For trails that teach with sacred step,

I'll challenge any taker who ignores Her beauty,

And denies the chills that I’ve met.

For Scotland, I drink tonight.

On Her shores, you may still feel the sea’s lonely pull

In the salt spray and roaring surf,

But the daunting cliffs or rainbow machair

Have the call all rovers must answer.

There’s a chasm in my heart to never be filled

But by autumn rains and crimsons I have known.

And should the last thistle die, ever with Her I’ll lie

For I have failed to protect our home.

For Scotsmen, it’s pride in the land we live on

Where Lion Rampant flies free above.

We’ll give all that’s needed to preserve Her beauty

With stories, good works, lives, and love.

For Scotland, we drink tonight.