All songs © Bob Knight 2006
Walker Dam
[There are quite a few stories in Scottish mythology about creatures such as the Water-Kelpie, and Silkie, which can take human form, usually with dire results. However, I wanted something altogether gentler - a love story with a mystical element, and invented the shape shifting Queen of Swans. I decided to set it on Walker Dam, which was probably an old mill pond, but is now a local beauty spot in the Craigiebuckler area of Aberdeen.]

By the banks o' Walker Dam I strolled, one evening in July,
T'was jist aboot the gloamin time, when a lass I chanced to spy,
Standin' by the watter side, sae lovely but sae wan,
She followed me as I passed by, and boldly took my hand.

I think you are mistaken lass, I said tae her at last,
For I am not the man you seek, although I wish I was,
Thou art, she said, for many times, I've watched thee feed the swans,
And tonight thy kindness is repaid, on the banks o' Walker Dam.

She took my airm and bade me follow, her amang the trees,
A quiet place we found at last, and syne she turned tae me,
Sir, I shall be thy queen tonight, and thou - my chosen man,
Shall be The King O' Swans this night, on the banks o' Walker Dam.

And in her bower deep in the woods, wi' moonlight all around,
Oor passions high we seemed to fly, her skin was saft as down,
But when I woke at last next day, I searched on every hand,
The lass was gone, I was alone, on the banks o' Walker Dam.

On moonlit nichts she comes tae me, her voice is saft but clear,
As dreaming in my bed I lie, she whispers in my ear,
Oh we shall meet again my love, on the same night each July,
If thou love me, and constant be, together we shall lie.

On the banks o' Walker Dam I stroll, to feed the swans each day,
Aye thinking o' my lovely lass, as the cygnets roon me play,
Wi' her milk-white skin and flaxen hair, as graceful as a swan,
She fair enthralled me weel that nicht, on the banks o' Walker Dam.

Aye the lass enthralled me weel that nicht on the banks o' Walker Dam.

The Banks O' The Dee
[This is the first song I wrote in traditional style. I decided to write a song about my hometown since there are very few songs about Aberdeen. I wrote part of it, and then promptly forgot about it. A few months later I found the writing pad with the words, realised it wasn't too bad and wrote the rest of it.]

When I left my home I was just nineteen,
To seek adventure far from Aberdeen,
I've roamed the world now from East to West,
But my own land is the one that I love best

I wish I was by the banks o' the Dee,
With the cool summer rain fallin' down on me,
Take me away from the dust and the heat,
Where the earth is parched and dead beneath my feet.

If I could walk home I would leave today,
But a wide and mighty ocean bars my way,
I swear one day I will cross that sea,
To my home in Aberdeen by the banks o' the Dee

The rising sun, shining in my eyes
Tells my aching bones that it's time to rise,
I work all day 'til I'm half dead,
Then return again to my lonely, weary bed.

Sometimes in sleep, it will come tae me,
And I see once more my loving family,
Then I walk the streets of my younger years,
And when I wake my eyes are filled with tears.

If I could walk home I would leave today,
But a wide and mighty ocean bars my way,
I swear one day I will cross that sea,
To my home in Aberdeen by the banks o' the Dee

I wish I was by the banks 'o the Dee,
With a cool summer rain falling down on me,
And I pray someday I may cross the sea,
To my home in Aberdeen by the banks 'o the Dee

To my home in Aberdeen by the banks 'o the Dee

The Bold Philanderer
[This is what I call a, "Bold and Bawdy Ballad," but it's just a cheeky wee song about someone who loves women. I looked up the word, "philanderer," in the dictionary, and was given the explanation, "a man who enters into casual sexual relationships with women." Aye, that just about explains what he, and the song is all about. ]

I am a bold philanderer, I hae nae sense o' shame,
There's lassies I could tell you o', but ithers I cannae name,
I hae some here, and ithers there, a' scattered aboot the toon,
And you can see me ony day, as I'm gaen on my roonds.

For I jist cannae help mysel', each lass I hae tae try,
The mair I try the mair I get, I'm sure ye'd be surprised,
Oh, I get a skelp fae time tae time, but there's mair that let me in,
I always dae the job richt weel, so I can come again.

Noo I am like the bumblebee that flits fae flooer tae flooer,
Wi' my tongue in ilka honey pot, there's ae thing I am sure,
If ithers gied them what they want, and kept them weel supplied,
There'd be less o' a chance for me, to keep them satisfied.

And though I'm growin aulder noo, I'm nae retiring yet,
There's always room for yin like me, wha kens whit spots tae hit,
As lang as there are lips tae kiss, or knickers up a skirt,
I'll try my best tae get them doon, for I'm nae retiring yet.

For I am a bold philanderer, it's true I hae nae shame,
For spreadin happiness aboot, I'm prood tae tak the blame,
Wi' lassies here, and lassies there, a' scattered aboot the toon.
And you can see me ony day, as I'm gaen on my roonds.

Aye you can see me ony day, as I'm gaen on my roonds.

I Hae A Bonny Lassie
[A song about a man who loves a married woman. At first he seems to be bragging, but then you realise he is caught up in a very sad situation.]

I hae a bonny lassie,
But she is nae my ain,
For she's wed tae anither man,
And I cannae tell her name.

I think of her each mornin',
As I rise to face the day,
And I think on her 'til bedtime,
As doon my heid I lay.

And I wish she wiz beside me,
Whaur she has often lain,
Tae kiss her and caress her,
But I wish, I wish in vain.

On the nichts when she comes tae me,
Then how we sport and play,
But she rises all too quickly,
And then she goes away.

But I wouldnae change that lassie,
For a new wife 'o my ain,
Fur a' she brings is pleasure,
And worries I hae nane.

And I wish she wiz beside me,
Whaur she has often lain,
Tae kiss her and caress her,
But I wish, I wish in vain.

I think of her each mornin',
As I rise to face the day,
And I think on her 'til bedtime,
As doon my heid I lay.

Oh I think on her 'til bedtime,
As doon my heid I lay.

As We Merch On
[It's May 1314, and a band of men march towards Stirling in central Scotland. An English garrison is besieged in Stirling castle, one of the last remaining bastions of the English occupation. If the castle is not relieved by Midsummer Day, the governor of the castle has agreed to surrender it to the Scots. The English king, Edward II, is bringing a mighty invading army to relieve the garrison. A battle is almost inevitable and the call has gone out to assemble at Stirling.
The resulting battle at Bannockburn, near Stirling, where the heavily outnumbered Scots won a crushing victory, helped to finally re-establish Scotland's independence.]

We set oot on a bricht May morning,
To meet the foe that's been oor bane,
And though their host be strong and mony,
We'll stand and win or ne'er come hame.

The days are lang the weather kind,
We sleep and eat whaur ere we can,
Oor hairts are strong though hardships mony,
Oor cause is just, tae free oor land

It's nae for land or gold we struggle,
It's nae for King or Lairds we fecht,
But for oor families, wives and bairns
Tae live in freedom is oor richt.

And gin at last we meet in battle,
And fa' afore oor deidly foe,
There's nane can say we lackit courage,
For it's aye the bravest first laid low.

As we merch on the day grows nearer,
Whit happens syne there's nane can say,
But we maun stand and face the English,
By Stirling on Midsummer's day.

Bitter Winds
[A song about lost love. He's missing her and wants her back, but sometimes relationships just grow colder.]

I'm not happy when the autumn winds are blawing,
And the best time o' the year has come and gone,
Wi' sunshine and happiness behind me,
I'm left to face the cauld dark nights alone.

The chill of winter disnae last forever,
The snaw will melt and everything's brand new,
But I can't melt your hairt an make you love me,
I'm frozen tae the bone because o' you.

Chorus: Once the bitter winds could blaw I never worried,
Your loving kept me warm a' winter through,
But now I'm on my own, your hairt has turned tae stone,
The bitter wind's nae half as cauld as you.

I think I'll go and find mysel' a corner,
Sleep a' winter lang like bears and such like do,
But I know deep in my hairt it's nae that simple,
'Cause I wouldn't dream of anything but you.

Chorus

The Ballad Of Indian Peter
[This is based on the true story of Peter Williamson, abducted from Aberdeen in 1743, and sent as an indentured slave to Virginia. The trade in children to the colonies seems to have been quite profitable. It's said that those involved became so bold, they were herding children through the streets of Aberdeen like sheep. The children were kept in a house by the harbour, and a piper was hired to play, covering the sound of their cries for help.
Peter had many adventures, including being abducted again by Indians, but was eventually wounded in the French and Indian wars, and sent back to England. There he wrote his memoirs and came back to Aberdeen to pursue those responsible for his abduction. He dressed in Red Indian dress to publicise his case, and acquired the nickname, "Indian Peter." His case was dismissed, probably because those hearing it were themselves involved in the trade. The public executioner burnt his books, and he was threatened with jail and thrown out of town. Undeterred he took his case to the court in Edinburgh and won. It seemed too good a story to miss, so I turned it into a song.]

Come a' ye fowk fae Aiberdeen and gither here by me,
Noo here's my tale so listen ane and a',
How I was taen fae Aiberdeen and sent across the sea,
Tae be indentured in far Virginia.

I wisnae a criminal, a beggar or sic like,
Jist a laddie playin by the quay,
But I was taen and lockit up until the time was richt,
Alang wi' ither laddies jist like me.

Syne we were loadit on a ship and heidin oot tae sea,
The wind and storm for weeks we had tae bear,
'Til we had sailed across the sea and reached America,
Whaur we were shipwrecked aff the Delaware.

But I was rescued fae the sea and selt within a week,
Tae work for Mr Wilson on his fairm,
And though the work wis hard I was never treated ill,
The years soon passed as I workit oot my term.

Noo Mr Wilson cried me in, and said, "Yer free to go,
Or you can bide and work alang wi' me,
But being young I took the road and bid them a' fareweel,
Tae seek my fortune in the colonies.

Within a year I had a wife and set tae clearin' land,
And I built a hoose for us among the trees,
My wife was at her sister's hoose the nicht oor fairm got burnt,
And I was captured by the Cherokee.

Once again I wis a slave but lucky just tae live,
Though treated wi' the utmost cruelty,
Fed on scraps jist like a dog and beaten every day,
I witnessed every kind o' savagery.

The months went by and I resolved tae quietly steal away,
And through the trees I walked and ran for days,
I kent if they recaptured me I'd die maist horribly,
But good fortune surely smiled on me that day.

Noo I was lucky tae escape though little did I ken,
That bad news lay in wait for me at hame,
While I was in the wilderness my wife had passed away
And I was left tae face the world alane.

In Shirleys' 50th Regiment of Foot I did enlist,
Tae fight the French and Indians we did go,
But I was wounded in the fecht and captured once again,
At the bloody siege of Oswego.

A prisoner exchange took place and I was soon released,
Back to my reg-iment withoot delay,
Whaur they declared I was unfit and I must be discharged,
And shipped back to auld England's shores straightway,

Weel here I am back hame again, nae prodigals return,
They hinnae killed the fatted calf for me.
They've burnt my books, thrown oot my case, and threatened me wi' jail,
So I hae taen my case tae Auld Reekie.

The coort in Edinburgh found that I was in the richt,
And awarded a hundred pounds tae me,
The crooked cooncillors o' Aiberdeen were made tae pey,
For selling me intae slavery.

My name is Peter Williamson for them that dinnae ken,
I thank ye a' for listening tae my tale
I'll ne'er return tae Aiberdeen so I bid ye a' fareweel,
And may yer bloody cooncillers burn in Hell.

Aye may yer bloody cooncillers burn in Hell.

Down By The Harbour
[One of those stories where a young man sets off to seek his fortune. After many years of backbreaking work in a foreign land, he finally realises that he was better off at home. What I call, "I'm off to seek my fortune, and it's all gone horribly wrong," song. It ends on an optimistic note as he heads for home.]

Down by the harbour I strolled one day,
Signed up on a merchant ship and sailed away,
I left my home and my family,
To seek my fortune across the sea.

I've sailed across the seven seas,
But good fortune always has eluded me,
And then I heard gold had been found,
In no time at all I was Australia bound.

I dig each day in the stony ground,
But could scarcely fill a tooth with the gold I've found,
And at night when I lay down to rest,
I dream of my home and those that I love best.

The sun on high burns down each day,
Oh how I'm longing for a sky that's gray,
Or a summer stroll 'neath the shady trees,
With my sweetheart by my side, happy I'd be.

If we were married I would never leave,
And I'd vow no more to sail upon the sea,
And when I die content I'd be,
To be part of the land that was part of me.

Oft times I fear that could never be,
With my home and sweetheart far across the sea,
But to the harbour I will go straightway,
To find a merchant ship and sail away

To find a merchant ship and sail away.

Returned From The Sea
[This one could almost have been written as a sequel to, "Down By The Harbour," but was actually written a month or so before it. When I was working on the final track order, it seemed obvious that I should place them in sequence on the CD. This song is what's know in folk music as a, "classic recognition ballad." He returns home after many years away, his lover doesn't recognise him, and he tests her to see if she has remained true. When everything seems OK, he reveals his identity, and they live happily ever after.]

I stepped off a ship in the harbour this morning,
And straight away made for the street where she stays,
Certain by now she'd be wed to another,
During the long years while I was away.

As I walked up the street she was there in the garden,
The flowers in profusion around her they grew,
So shading my eyes with my hat to disguise me,
I wished her good day as a stranger might do.

Then I asked my love if her husband was home,
She said I'm not married and never can be,
Until my own true love comes home I'll be single,
And for many long years he's been gone on the seas.

But what if he's stranded on some foreign shore,
Or his ship has gone down and he's lost in the sea,
What if he's married some dusky young woman?
In fabled Cathay, or the isles of Fiji.

Sir, if he's marooned I will pray for his rescue,
And wait for the day when he comes home to me,
Or if he's been drowned in the deepest blue ocean,
I will always be faithful to his memory.

And if he has married a dusky young woman,
From fabled Cathay, or the isles of Fiji,
I wish him all happiness with his new lover,
On that faraway isle in the midst of the seas.

But I do not believe he would marry another,
And I swear that no other man with me shall lie,
For the vows that we made they can never be broken,
I shall lie here alone 'til the day that I die.

I opened the gate and stepped into her garden,
And as I drew closer she recognised me,
She came into my arms and I kissed and caressed her,
Saying I'm your lost lover returned from the sea.

Yes, I am your lost lover returned from the sea

Doon By The Watterside
[Many years ago, before the all pervading television, and computers held sway, the rivers that ran through towns were more widely used for recreation. My wife's family came from a small country town, and often took their dogs for a walk, "doon by the watterside," which gave me the title for this song.
An old man, walking by the riverside, remembers how he played here as a child, met and courted his wife here, and watched their children play here in their turn. Now he is an old man, his wife is gone, his children are scattered in foreign lands, and he has nothing left but his memories. Very sad.]

In my younger days sae lang ago, that I can hardly mind,
The summers' aye seemed langer then, the weather always fine,
Wi' bleedy knees and scabby shins, we roamed the country wide,
But every day we'd aye end up, doon by the watter side.

T'was by the banks my aulder brithers, learned me how tae swim,
Oh! How my dad lost his temper, when he heard they threw me in,
We'd rin aboot the banks a' day, or climb amang the trees,
Those happy days they're jist a haze, o' distant memories.

Each neuk and turn reminds me o', the yin I'll always miss,
For there I met my sweethairt, and we shared oor first kiss,
T'was there I shyly asked her, if she would be my bride,
On a summer nicht sae lang ago, doon by the watter side

Syne here we took oor ain bairns, and watched them ha'in fun,
Alang the banks amang the trees, the same as we had done,
But they've a' grown and flown the nest, they're a' the world roon,
For horizons were nae broad enough, in this wee country toon.

Cauld Winters' grip is on me noo, her hands aboot my throat,
And I aften think on them I loved and lost alang the road,
Noo they've a' gone before me, crossed tae the ither side,
But I aften think I hear them still, doon by the watter side.

In my memory they're with me still, doon by the watter side.