For the priest and the holy well And the bell .thy story tell., And for the spinning wheels, Spindle spun, And to walk over the sand dunes

O.,er the banks Of the boni doon Touch and sit by The slippery moon O,.er the fields of

Still waters of the stream Row in my boat in the river Tay. Upon the swans of the lake Come up to side of the boat

O, come to talk to Thee O there is only thee O, I love the winters Nights

It is I write a few lines Of a poets story of thy Times We all like Mr chimes Who drinks gin on the

Thou dear jack frost To this freeze Thy hands and toes To look outside by the Frozen window pane

The sweet smell of flowers Lies in the wet dewy grass Upon they wake of the dawn Of the day From dawn to dust they

God save the queen To sid vicious and the Sex pistols Olympic Dreams Twenty seven medals

This open glen was thick with Thorns Tis then the white of the flower hide the horns of the shy fallow Deer

what from this barran land can we reap? our fields are dry my body Frail Go on the trail before thy fail

I stand upon the Venice bridge Of sighs, A palace and a prison on each Side. I saw from the tidal waves so

Gapes around the silent arena Tis inside bugle trumpets bull ca… Tis of wild angry soundings foot Bounds and spurns the angry mighty Brute, first run in the sand pit,…