Green sleeves and tartan ties
Mark my true love where she lies;
I'll be at her or she rise,
My fiddle and I thegither,-
Be it by the chrystal burn,
Be it by the mill-white thorn,
I shall rouse her in the morn,
My fiddle and I thegither.-
John Cope
John Cope
Auld Lang Syne
Peck O Maut
Carl An The King Come
The Ranting Dog
On a Bank Of Flowers
The Campbells Are Comin
Parcel O' Rogues
A Pint o Wine
What Will I do Gin My Hoggie Die ?
A Man's a Man For All That (Is There For Honest Poverty)
The Banks O Doon
Peggy Alison
I Sing Of A Whistle
The Battle Of Sherra-moor
The Captain's Lady
Blythe Was She
Raving Winds
The Deidly Wars Are Past And Gane