Well, here it is. The terrible innacurate history of William Wallace thanks to Hollywood.

BLOODY EDWARD

By Matthew Richards

In days of yore, so long ago
We marched out, to meet the hated foe
So that our bonnie homeland would not go
To the bloody English King, oh oh
To Bloody Edward, King.

We met them on the field that day
At Stirling bridge we had our say
We drove the English foe away
To our land come no more, no no
To our land come no more

The vallies echoed with the sound
Of many boots that shook the ground
Our Highland pipes, they drove us on
To claim what did to us belong
The clan's old tartans there arrayed
And claymores sharp in arms upraised
'Cross places no one had been before
Scotland's men--we go to war!

We took the Highlands, we took the Low
From the Isle of Skye to Edinburgh
And places only Scotsmen know
From the bloody English King, oh oh
From Bloody Edward, King.

Sir William Wallace led our lot
Through winter freezing and summer hot
A grim and awesome force he wrought
Against the bloody English king, oh oh
Against Bloody Edward, King.

Well, Bloody Edward and his host
They gave the wound that hurt us most
At Falkirk our army was made a ghost
By the bloody English king, oh oh
By Bloody Edward, King.

The vallies echoed with the sound
Of worn-out boots that tread the ground
Our Highland pipes, they did not play
As we retreated back the way
Thatwe had come so long ago
The ways that only Scotsmen know
'Cross places we had fought before
The Scottish men return from war.

Well, we carried on the fight for years
Both shedding blood and shedding tears
Trying not to show our fears
The the bloody English king, no no
To Bloody Edward, King.

They captured Wallace--what an end!
They hoped with torture then to bend
His mind, instead he gave his head
To the bloody English king, oh oh
To Bloody Edward, King.

It was a horrid day for all
But Robert the Bruce took up our call
Again we march out straight and tall
Against the bloody English king, oh oh
Against Edward's son, the King.

The vallies echo with the sound
Of many boots that shake the ground
Our Highland pipes, they drive us on
To reclaim what does to us belong
The clan's old tartans there arrayed
And claymores sharp in arms upraised
'Cross places Death had seen before
Scotland's men we go to war.

Well, we gained our freedom, gained our land
With gallant Robert, we made our stand
Yes we, the valiant Scottish band
At Bannockburn we won, oh oh
At Bannockburn WE WON!

Matthew Richards (1997)


--Mbo