The Wild Coast of Menie                                  Tune “Adew Dundee”

 
Well he cam oer the sea wi his hands on his purses,
This man frae the West telling stories so bold.
He cam like a wind, spinning tales o fine riches,
Of feasts o great plenty and palaces gold.

 
His bloodline ran true, through oor far misty islands,
His enemies dinged at his words and repute.
But he cam here amang us, and split us, and deived us,
And thrust his keen axe twixt the branch and the root.

In Aiberdeen city, the townsmen were spierin,
The Wild Coast of Menie tae nurture, or sell.
While guidmen were speakin “tak tent o the plain folk”
There’s ithers cared little apart for theirsels

 
The birdies were wheelin, the waves they came crashin,
The march o the years was the sands o the shore.
While those of great learnin declared frae their chaumers,
That the harsh hand o man should spoil Menie no more.

But the man wha had cam, tae sport and tae play there,
He struts and he stares as his schemes are begun.
There’s some that believe him and a that is promised,
But four-fold he’s held riches, four-fold he’s had none.

Then out frae the waves there, a sight that sore grieved him;
Great powerful ships ne’er a mile frae the shore.
They stood there a’ graceful; their sails a’ unfurling,
Wild Coast of Menie, we hear the storm roar.