(George Donald / Buff Hardie)I love Scotland's glens, and whatever else we lose
Please leave us our glens, our glorious glens
Our mountains as grand, Ben Nevis, Ben Lomond too
You can have all those bens, but leave us our glens
Glenfiddich, Glendronach, Glenlivet, Glen Grant
Can you do without them? If you must know, I can't
Put a drop in the glass of Glen Spey or Glen Drotter
It's a perfectly bearable way to drink water
I'd willingly lose our culture, or most of it
Including that mess they call 'full Highland dress'
With the whole ethnic bit of haggis and Hogmanay
I'd gladly dispense, but leave us our glens
Glenfiddich, Glendronach, Glenlivet, Glen Fall
I once knew a man who had sampled them all
Glenisla, Glenugie, Glenkinchie, that's plenty
He looked sixty-five, but in fact he was twenty
Take our Highlands scottische, take our marches, strathspeys and reels
Take our old Scottish waltz, but leave us our malts
You can take, if you wish, our ladies' conveniences
And our gentlemen's - but leave us our glens
Glenfiddich, Glendronach, Glenlivet, Glenfyne
Was great at communion when we ran out of wine
Glenisla, Glenugie, Glenkinchie, Glenmorangie
I prefer them to Quantro which I find too orangey
Oh breathe there a Scot whose aims and priorities
When laid on the line, are different from mine
Take our homes, take our jobs, take anything else you will
Wife, family and friends, but leave us our glens
(as sung by Iain MacKintosh)