Lyrics written out in the diary.
‘Oh what a parish, a terrible parish
Oh what a parish is that of Dunkeld
They hang’d their minister
Drooned their presenter
Burned down the steeple
And fuddled the bell.
The steeple was doon, but the kirk was still standing,
They biget a lumb where the bell used to hang
A still pot they got
And they brewed Highland whiskey
On Sunday’s they drank it and ranted and sang.
Oh had you but seen how graceful they looked
To see the crammed pews so socially joined
MacDonald the piper stood up in the pulpit
He made the pipes skirl out the music divine.
Wi whiskey and beer they would curse ‘n they’d swear
they’d argue and fight like you’d dare nae tell
About Geordie and Charlie they bothered feu early
Wi whiskey they’re worse than the devil himsel’
When the hearts leering spirits had mounted their garrets
To a ball on the green they all did ajourn
The maids were coarse kilted
They skipped and they lilted
When tired they shook hands and then hame did return.
If the kirks all oor Scotland
Held like social meetings
Nay warning you’d need from a far tinkling bell,
For true love and friendship will draw you together
Far better than roaring the horrors of hell!
Oh what a parish…….’
Here is a rather wonderful link to Silly Wizard performing this song quite a wee while ago.