Killing Rock - A Glaswegian Tale Lyrics

On the third of the month
My wee bird left me
She chased after man
Who lives on the sea
Now all that I have
Is the comfort of me
In the scotch spiced with apples
That fall from my tree
The gold eagle flies on west sullen wings
And the south eastern wine in the goblet of kings

In a new land, On a bright shore
Stands a tall bitch, on a two-four
I cannot see ambition
In this sea of unwanted progress
You do not expect me
To rise up from your attack
Another drink and another wench
Is all I really need

In a pub east of Dundee
I'm playing for tips
My wallet's running dry
From the alabaster chips
And cold is the snow
That falls in Glencoe
Where the wind does howl
Like the mewling of crows
I think I can hear her, my old bonny lass
With her hair tied in knots and her eyes of sea glass

In a new land, On a bright shore
Stands a tall bitch, on a two-four
I cannot see ambition
In this sea of unwanted progress
You do not expect me
To rise up from your attack
Another drink and another wench
Is all I really need

My nose is runny
My cheeks are bright pink
I'm slaking my thirst
With ale from a kink
And nobody knows
Where my memories do go
When the tide comes in red
And she looks at me dead
I'll see you on Sunday
When all has been done
The blades at my throat
But I've got a gun

In a new land, On a bright shore
Stands a tall bitch, on a two-four
I cannot see ambition
In this sea of unwanted progress
You do not expect me
To rise up from your attack
Another drink and another wench
Is all I really need