I cannot take credit for writing this ballad. It was taught to me by my high school wood shop teacher who said his grandfather wrote it. But I think it is good and well worth passing on. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Cheers.

The Ballad of Jock MacLean


Noo Jock MacLean wis a hielan mon
An he cam frae Tobermory;
An he wore the kilt, of the red MacLean
That nae mair than covered his glory.

Noo the kilt thru the wind and the weather had shrank
For Jock wis baith strong and sturdy;
But Jock wis shocked to one day find
That it shawed the end o his birdie.

To lengthen the kilt was cost mony bawbees
an he couldna wear his best wan
But to cut a piece frae the end o his bird
Wis a thing clean oot o the question.

So he thocht, and he thocht
And the mair that he thocht
Till this thocht through his heid cam dartin;
An he gat some paint and he painted his bird
Till it couldna be told frae the tartan.