The Honourable Baron Justinian Clarus

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The Man Who Would Not Die

The Honourable Baron Justinian Clarus

Other Songs 6.2 Glenwhorple, or the "G" Song.

There's a braw fine clan o' lads as ilka man should ken.
They's de'ils at th' fichtin. They've clured a sicht o' men.
They've suppit muckle whiskey when tae celaidgh they gang ben.
The heilin men o' braw Glenwhorple.

Hieught! Glenwhorple heilan men,
Great stron', whiskey-suckin' heilan men.
They were hard-workin', hairy-leggit heilan men.
Slainte mhor, Glenwhorple!

They were founded by MacAdam who of all the men was first.
He resided in Glen Eden an' he pipit fit tae burst,
Wi' a fig-leaf for a sporran and a perfect heilan thirst
Till he stole away the apple from Glenwhorple.

When the waters of the deluge drookit all the whole world o'er
The chieftain of the clan, ye know, his name was Sean MacNoah.
So a muckle boat he biggit, and he sneckit up the door
And he sailed away from drooned Glenwhorple.

Old MacNoah sent a piper out to see if there was land.
He came back wi' an empty whiskey bottle in each hand,
But they couldna understand him; he was fu', ye understand,
For he found a public house upon the water.

Oh, there was a jock named Joshua, a sapper he by trade,
He went away to Jericho upon a muckle raid.
Th' walls they went a tumbling and wi' loot the lads were apid
From the sappin' and the minin' in Glenwhorple.

When wise King Solomon was ruler o' the clan
He had a hundred pipers and a thousand fighting men
And ten thousand wives and concubines, for as I'm sure ye ken
He kept a powerful household in Glenwhorple.

Oh, there was a birkie bangster, was the ruler of the clan.
His name it was T'Wallace, and he was a fighting man,
And he went about the border, and the Southron turned and ran
From the dinging of the claymore in Glenwhorple.

Many of the clansmen went and left their heilen homes.
They loaded up on ships, about the world to roam.
They were looking for a special place to call their very own.
That's how Ealdormere became Glenwhorple.

Oh what a sight this morning, with the clan all on parade,
With the piper and the claymore, and the braw Glenwhorple plaid,
And the piper almost sober, and the chieftain not afraid
Of seeing tartan spiders in Glenwhorple.