Ding Dong Dollar
(Trad /Thurso Berwick aka-Morris Blythman/John Mac Smith/Jim McLean— Tune: Ye canny above yuir Granny aft a bus)
Main Singer—Nigel Denver with Jack O'Connor and Josh MacRae (Harmony)
Same pattern as We Dinna Want Polaris plus unassailable logic. Key-song in the repertoire.
Style: rebel-commercial.

Chorus:
O ye canny spend a dollar when ye're deid,
O ye canny spend a dollar when ye're deid:
Singin Ding . . . Dong , . . Dollar; Everybody holler
Ye canny spend a dollar when ye're deid.

O the Yanks have juist drapt anchor in Dunoon
An they've had their civic welcome iae the toon,
As they cam up the measured mile
Bonnie Mary o Argyll
Wis wearin spangled drawers ablow her goun.

An the publicans will aa be daein swell.
For it's juist the thing that's sure tae ring the bell,
O the dollars they will jingle,
They'll be no a lassie single.
Even though they maybe blaw us aa tae hell.

But the Glesca Moderator disnae mind;
In fact, he thinks the Yanks arc awfy kind.
For if it's heaven that ye're goin
It's a quicker way than rowin,
An there's sure tae be naehody left behind.

Final Chorus:
O ye canny spend a dollar when ye're deid
Sae tell Kennedy he's got tae keep the heid,
Singin DingDongDollar; Everybody holler
Ye canny spend a dollar when ye're deid.

I Shall Not be Moved
(Trad)
Singer—Josh MacRae
Work-shopped on one of the early marines. Many variants, including 'ad lib for the polls' verses. Theme song of the sit-downers.
Style: rebel-anthem.

I shall not, I shall not he moved,
I shall not, I shall not he moved.
Just like a tree that's standing by the Holy Loch
I shall not be moved.

We dinnae want Polaris, I shall not be moved,
We dinnae want Polaris, I shall not be moved.
Just like a tree that's standing by the Holy Loch
I shall not be moved.

It's time tae redd the Clyde, boys, I shall not be moved;
It's time tae redd the Clyde, boys, I shall not be moved;
Just like a tree that's standing by the Holy Loch
I shall not be moved

Hiroshima, I shall not be moved,
Nagasaki, I shall not he moved,
Just like a tree that's standing by the Holy Loch
I shall not be moved.

C.N.D. for ever; I shall not be moved,
C.N.D. for ever; I shall not be moved,
Just like a tree that's standing by the Holy Loch
I shall not be moved.

We Dinnae Want Polaris
(The Three Craws/Jim McLean)
Singer—Josh MacRae

Sets the pattern for anti-Polaris song: slogan, repetition, vernacular idiom, local reference, mongrel vitality, skalrag swing. Also sets the pattern for song-making, the 'workshop' pattern. Anyone could add a line, anyone could improve it. There are eighteen co-authors of the version given. Swept the line at Aldermaston where it picked up many accretions.
Style: rebel-direct.

The U.S.A. are gie'n subs away,
Gie'n subs away, gie'n subs away, hay, hay,
The U.S.A. are gie'n subs away.
But we dinna want Polaris.

Tell the Yank', tae drap them doon the stanks,
Drap them doon the stanks, drap them doon the stanks, hay, hay,
Tell the Yank', tae drap them doon the stanks.
But we dinna want Polaris.

The Cooncil o Dunoon, they want their hauf-a-croon,
Want thir hauf-a-croon, want thir hauf-a-croon, hay, hay,
The Cooncil o Dunoon, they want thir hauf-a-croon.
But we dinna want Polaris.

The hairies o the loon are sailin tae Dunoon,
Sailin tae Dunoon,sailin tae Dunoon, hay, hay
The hairies o the loon are sailin tae Dunoon.
But we dinna want Polaris.

It's suicide tae hae them on the Clyde,
Hae them on the Clyde, hae them on the Clyde, hay, hay
It's suicide tae hae them on the Clyde.
But we dinna want Polaris.

Tak the haill dam show up the River Alamo,
River Alamo, River Alamo, hay, hay
Tak the haill dam show up the River Alamo.
But we dinna want Polaris.

Anchors avveigh for Poppa Kennedy,
Poppa Kennedy, Poppa Kennedy, hay, hay,
Anchors aweigh for Poppa Kennedy,
An ta-ta tae Polaris.

The Polis of Argyll
(Freddy Anderson—Tune: Johnsons Motor Car)
Singer—Josh MacRae

The polis are fascinated by every reference to themselves. They're not sure whether the singers are singing with them, at them, round them, by them or through them. They don't know whether they're folk-friends, folk-villains, folk-comedians or folk crowd-scenes. But they do know that they are accepted as folk-some things and relax. They're quite photogenic as they tap out time to the old banjo, and join in the chorus singing. Even the Top-Brass (remembering the sustained 'ad lib for the polls' singing at the first Holy Loch sit-down and the adverse press comment, resulting from their over-zealous handling of the sit-downers) treat the demonstrators with great courtesy and make special provisions for the singers -"subject to the Noise Abatement Act".
Style: rebel-comeallye.

You may talk about your Nelson, and Francis Drake as well.
And how they blew the Spaniards and pirates all to hell,
But theyve nothing on the Yankee subs that sneaked past Arran Isle
And left the Battle o Dunoon to the Polls o Argyll.

These worthy sons of Robert Peel are trained to keep the law,
And any danger they'll confront, providin it is sma;
In naval operations they specialise in style,
But the Holy Loch proved quite a shock to the Polls o Argyll.

With only frogmen to assist and "specials" by the score.
The Polis proved they're gallant men, all heroes to the core:
With Proteus squat behind them and nuclear missiles, too,
They did the near impossible and captured a canoe.

Now all you Russian astronauts who navigate the globe
Stay far away from Scotland in your Cosmo-Rocket probe,
For should you land near Gourock, you'll be conquered in line style
By the Yanks combining forces with the Polis o Argyll.

Paper Hankies
(Ian Wade—Tune: Yankee Doodle Dandy)
Singer—Nigel Denver

Catholicity of tune is one of the hall-marks of Glasgow folk-song (cf. 'Glesca Eskimos', 'Rampant Lion' etc.)
'Yankee Doodle could not be left out.

The Proteus sailed intae the Clyde
Amidst a blaze o glory
When the C.N.D. drap in for tea
It'll he a different story.

Chorus:
Chase the Yankees oot the Clyde,
Away wi Uncle Sammy;
Chase the Yankees oot the Clyde
An send them hame tae mammy.

Down in Dunnoon they think it's great
The place is fu o Yankees,
They fling their money aa aroon
Like it was paper hankies.

The Proteus is made o steel,
The Yanks arc widden-heidit,
They're bein jouked o aa their loot,
An yet they canna see it.

Lanin's in the Holy Loch.
He canny hae much vision;
The C.N.D. will board his ship
An hing him fae the mizzen.

Ye'll no sit here
(Trad—Tune: Hey, Jock, Ma Cuddy)
Singers—Morris Blythman and Jack O'Connor

In the list of American exports to Scotland, Yogi Bear has found much happier acceptance than Polaris - or Billy Graham.

"Billy booked up the Kelvin Hall.
Man, you should have seen his circus.
It was bigger, it was better
Than the one that comes at Christmas"

The song is a great favourite with the polis, when they're doing their folk-friend, leaving the sit-downers to sit and with the sit-downers, themselves, reminding them and the polis, just who's co-operating with whom.
The tune is only faintly Hey Jock, na Cuddy'. It is much more appreciated, popularly, as 'Ye'll no sh--- here'. A variant has been collected in Arkansas . Style: rebel-burlesque.

Doon at Ardnadam, sittin at the pier,
When ah heard a polis shout— Ye'll no sit here!

Chorus:
Aye, but ah wull sit here!
Naw, but ye'll no sit here!
Aye, but ah wull!
Naw but yell no!
Aye, but ah wull sit here.

'Twis a Chief Inspector, Runcie, enhancin his career,
Prancin up an doon the road like Yogi Bear.

He caa'd for help tae Glesca, they nearly chowed his ear:
We've got the G'ers an Celtic demonstrators here

He telephoned the sodgers, but didnae mak it clear
The sodgcrs sent doon Andy Stewart tae volunteer.

He radioed the White Hoose, but aa that he could hear,
Wistwoonezero—an the set went queer.

For Jack had drapt an H-bomb an gied his-sel a shroud.
An he met wi Billy Graham on a wee white cloud.

Anti-Polaris
(Hamish Henderson—Tune: The Captain and His Whiskers)
Singer—Josh MacRae

A clan jamfrie of Highland Division, international brotherhood, mouth-music and Presbyterian psalm-singing.
The third tune is known in English as "ho-ro My Nut-brown Maiden" and parodied in the Scottish regiments as "Ah canny see the target".
Style: rebel-medley

There's a high road tae Gourock and a ferry tae Dunoon,
And the world will be watchin when we're mairchin through the toon.

Ban the Bomb an biff the Base till it's sunk withoot a trace.
Pit the Yanks intae orbit, for there's plenty room in space. Repeat

You may come frae Odessa, mate, frae Baltimore or Perth,
But the threat o Polaris maks ae country o the Earth.

Ban the Bomb, an blaw the base far awa tae Outer Space,
It's tae Hell wi Polaris — or the puir aul human race.
O, K. stands for Kennedy wha maks us aa sae blue.
An H. stands for Holy Loch an Hiroshima, too

Ban the bomb and blaw the base Tae some ither hotter plate,
It's tae hell wi Polaris or the puir aul human race.
Repeat
Repeat

(Tune: The Keel Row)

As I cam by Sandbank, by Sandbank, by Sandbank;
As I cam by Sandbank, I heard a Yankee cuss—

O deil tak the mairchers, the mairchers, the mairchers,
"O deil tak the mairchers, They've got it in for us."

We'll hae tae shift Polaris, Polaris, Polaris.
We'll hae tae shift Polaris, an Proteus an aa.

For if we dinnae shift them, shift them, ay, shift them,
For if we dinnae shift them. We'll get nae peace at aa.
Repeat
Repeat

(Tune : Ho ro mo nighean donn bhoidheach)

Oor een are on the target
Oor een are on the target
Oor een are on the target
We'll blaw the base awa.

We'll hae tae shift that target,
We'll hae tae shift that target,
An no juist doon lae Margate!
We'll blaw the base awa.

O I can see a captain,
A cocky Yankee captain,
O I can see a captain,
Wi ribbons up an aa.

We'll pit him intae orbit.
We'll pit him intae orbit,
The shock he'll juist absorb it,
He'll sook as weel as blaw.

The Misguided Missile and the Misguided Miss
(John Mack Smith)
Singer—Nigel Denver

Glasgow music-hall has always been popular in inspiration. It takes its material directly from the sayings and doings of the citizens themselves, (cf. Will Fyffe's "I belang tae Glesca" - the city's theme-song). Since Glasgow folk-song takes a large part of its material from the same sources, it's not surprising that folk and music-hall often overlap. Note some of the characteristics: the original tune, you think you've heard before; the wayward rhyme scheme, tying the familiar to the new departure; the exaggeration and over-interpretation of the line of argument; the overtones from the English '9Os.  (the mock tragic ballad); and from the Hollywood  '20s. and 30s.  (cf. Al Jolsons Manmy, the Cantor musicals and the sustained finale exit).
"The Yanks are a great people, a great people.' They'd do anything for you. First they send Billy Graham over to tell us where to go. And now they're sending Laning to make sure we get there"—The Half-Past Eight Show. Style: rebel-vaudeville.

The maid was young and pretty And she came down from the City
And maybe twas a pity that she left old Glesca Toon.
She met a son of Uncle Sammy from the heart of Alabamy,
He had never left his mammy till he came ower tae Dunoon.

So while you wet your whistle—whistle
I'll sing you this O the misguided missile
and the misguided miss.

In his wee bit sailor suitie—och! He looked so brave and smart
At the Battle o the Holy Loch he won a Purple Heart,
And noo that he's been overseas six medals and five stars;
For drinking Johnnie Walker he's collecting extra bars.

So while you wet your whistle—whistle
I'll sing you this O the misguided missile
and the misguided miss.

He said he'd like to thank her for those moments by the shore,
Said his daddy was a banker so she loved him more and more:
You could see he was a ranker by the rings upon his sleeve.
She wanted rings upon her fingers but he was just on leave.

So while you wet your whistle—whistle
I'll sing you this O the misguided missile
and the misguided miss.

He had some Scotch and scoosh then he went back aboard:
He turned his key—then whoosh! And o Lawdy Lawd !
He said; "I'm so embarrassed. We'll no be goin to Paris,
For I've launched the first Polaris through bein a drunken clod."

So while you wet your whistle—whistle
I'll sing you this O the misguided missile
and the misguided miss.

Now there's an awfu fuss aboard the Proteus,
And the maid is on the shore By the point o Lazarus,
And she's singin "Hush a baba. You will see your daddy soon,
When the clouds all roll away, for he's the first Yank on the moon

Coronation Coronach
(Thurso Berwick, aka-Morris Blythman—Tune: The Sash)
Singer—Josh MacRae with Morris shouting the intro!

Popularly known as the 'Scottish Breakaway', is the arche type of the folk-rebel song. The tune, an Orange one: "The Sash Me Father Wore", is the arche type rebel tune. The later verses were added as Court Circulars dictated. Style: rebel-direct.

Noo Scotland hasnae got a King,
An it hasnae got a Queen;
For ye cannae hae the second Liz
When the first yin's never been.

Chorus:
Nae Liz the Twa, nae Lllibet the Wan --
Nae Liz will ever dae!
For well mak oor land republican
In a Scottish break-away.

Noo her man's cried the Duke o Edinburgh --
He's wan o yon kilty Greeks.
Here, but dinnae blav my kilts awa,
For it's Lizzie wears the breeks.

He's a handsome man, an he looks like Don Juan;
He's beloved by the weaker sex.
But it disnae really matter a damn,
For its Lizzie signs the cheques.

Noo her sister Megs got a bonny pair o legs,
But she didnae want a German or a Greek.
Puir auld Peter was her choice, but he didnae suit the boys,
So they selt him up the creek.

Here, but Meg was fly, and she beat them by and by
Wi Tony Hyphenated-Armstrong.
But behind the pomp an play, the question o the day
Was, who the hell did Suzy Wong?

Sae heres tae the Lion, tae the bonny Rampant Lion,
And a lang streetch tae its paw.
Gie a Hampden roar, and It's oot the door,
And ta-ta tae Chairlies raaw.

NAB for Royalty
(Jim McLean—Tune: The Deil's awa wi the Exciseman)
Singer—Josh MacRae

Variations of the same portrait-gallery. More working-class in reference. The N.A.B. is the National Assistance Board. Nearly gave rise to a 'cause celebre', when an attempt was made to ban it from the public halls. Style: rebel-burlesque.

There lives a family in the land,
The famous Royal crew, man:
They willna work, they willna want --
Theyre livin on the B'roo, man!

Chorus:
It's NAB for Royalty,
Free milk for wee Prince Andy:
Tae pey the cook, an claith the Duke,
The Welfare State's gey handy!

Wee Chairlies grannie is gettin on --
Her age I needna mention --
For every Friday, bang on time,
She draws her Auld Age Pension.

When Tony askit for Maggie's haund,
They pit him tae the test, man.
Queen Lizzie ordered, gie up your job --
Be idle like the rest, man!

Prince Philip's gotten a brand new caur,
Although he's on the dole, man.
To walk from here to the Labour Exchange
He says ne cannae thole, man.

Oueen Lizzie has visited mony a land
And gazed on mony a sicht, man;
But I'll bet ye a fiver she never has seen
A pie on a Friday nicht, man!

They say we've never Had it sae Guid
(Jim McLean—Tune: Kellyburn Braes—Alias—The Fairmers Curst Wife)
Singer—Josh MacRae

Against the Tories, the English overlordship and the acceptance of false gods (cf. MacDiarmid's poetry). Style: rebel-direct.

They say that weve never had it sae guid
Right fol right fol tittie fol day
They say that weve never had it sae guid
But who in the hell are they try in tae Kid?
Wi a right fol dol - tjttie fol dol - right fol right fol tittie fol day

They gie the auld folk fifty shillins:
Three cheers for Mister Harold Macmillan.

We've aa got fridges an tellies sae grand—
God bless the Queen, an the H.P. man!

We've aa rot rockets an missiles as well—
Lets gie them tae Gaitskell, an send him tae hell!
I wish some power the gift wad gie me
Tae clap aa the Scottish M.Ps in Barlinnie.

I doot but oor heids are made oot o wuid,
Because weve never been had sae guid!

Camp in the Country
(Morris Blythman/Jim Mclean—Tune: Camp in the Country)
Singer—Nigel Denver

Started as a one-verse fragment, a private theme for the singers themselves. Off to the Camp In the Country' meant Off to the demonstration'. The tone of glee gives some idea of the cheeky high spirits of the singers. Style: rebel-picnic

We're off tae the camp in the country
—Hooray! Hooray!
We're off tae the camp in the country
—Hooray! Hooray!
Irish stew for dinner, aiple-pie for tea,
Roly-poly doon yuir belly
—Hip, hip, hip, hooray!

We're off tae the Asian restaurant
—Hooray! Hooray!
We're off tae the Asian restaurant
—Hooray! Hooray!
Curry for yuir dinner, tahari for yuir tea,
Burny, burny doon yuir belly
—Hip, hip, hip, hooray!

We're off tae the Holy Walter
—Hooray! Hooray!
We're off tae the Holy Walter
—Hooray! Hooray!
Irn-Bru for dinner, iron bars for tea.
Yankees trampin owre yuir belly
—Hip, hip, hip, hooray!

They're off tae Cincinnati
—Hooray! Hooray!
They're off tae Cincinnati
—Hooray! Hooray!
Chicken for their dinner, humble-pie for tea.
Yellie, yellie, doon their belly
—Hip, hip, hip, hooray!

The Glesga Eskimos
(T.S.Law/Morris Blythman—Tune: Marching through Georgia)
Singer—Josh MacRae

Goebbels referred to the 8th Army as 'rats caught in a trap. But Mephisto was caught himself. The epithet became a badge of honour, and the famous Desert Rats chased Nazism out of Africa. Captain Laning followed in the Doktor's fateful footsteps when he dismissed the Holy Loch demonstrators as 'Eskimos', not realising that these friendly people had been long esconced in Glasgow song:

"Sitting amang the Eskimos,
Playing a gemme o dominoes,
Ma Maws a millionaire."

It's sad that this hoary old sea-dog has been muzzled. His every yap was pure gold to the war-chest.

The tune is only theoretically Marching through Georgia'. It has long been acclimatised in Glasgow as the 'Brigton Billy Boys', an Orange song, and half its popularity stems from this fact. Style: rebel-direct.

It's up the Clyde comes Lanin—a super duper Yank,
But doon a dam sight quicker when we coup him doon the stank,
Up tae the neck in sludge an sewage fairly stops yuir swank.
—We are the Glesca Eskimos.

Chorus:
Hullo! hullo! we are the Eskimos,
Hullo! hullo! The Glesca Eskimos,
We'll gaff that nyaff ca'd Lanin,
We'll spear him whaur he blows.
—We are the Glesca Eskimos.

It's in an oot an up an doon, an on an aff the piers.
There's cooncillors, collaborators, pimps an profiteers
The hairies jouk the polls, an the polis jouk the queers,
—We are the Glesca Eskimos.

There's dredgers an there's sludgie-boats tae keep the river clean,
Ye lift yuir haun an pu the chain—Ye ken line whit ah mean,
But why in the hell has the Holy Loch been left ootside the scheme
—We are the Glesca Eskimos.

We've been in mony a rammy, lads, we've been in mony a tear,
We've sortit oot this kind afore, we'll sort them onywhere,
O, get yuir harpoons ready—he's comin up for air
—We are the Glesca Eskimos.

The Freedom Come all ye
(Trad/Hamish Henderson—Tune: The Bloody Fields o Flanders)
Singer—Jack O'Connor

Non-workshop, much richer language. The Scots has been wedded, after the Gaelic fashion, to the pipe-tune.
Style: rebel-bardic.
For the Glasgow peace marchers May, 1960

Roch the wind in the clear day's dawin
Blaws the cloods heelster-gowdie ow'r the bay,
But there's mair nor a roch wind blawin
Through the great glen o the world the dav.

It's a thocht that will gar oor rottans,
Aa they rogues that gang gallus, fresh an gay,
Tak the road an seek ither loanins
For their ill ploys, tac sport an play.

Nae mair will the bonnie gallants
March tae war, when oor braggarts crousely craw,
Nor wee weans frae pit-heid an clachan
Mourn the ships sailin doon the Broomielaw;
Broken faimlies, in lands we herriet
Will curse Scotland the Brave nae mair, nae mair;
Black an white, ane til ither mairret
Mak the vile barracks o their maisters bare.

O come all ye at hame wi freedom.
Never heed whit the hoodies croak for doom;
In your hoose aa the bairns o Adam
Can find breid, barley bree an painted room.
When Maclean meets wi's freens in Springburn
Aa the roses an geans will turn tae bloom.
An a black boy frac yont Nyanga
Dings the fell gallows o the burghers doon.

Ban Polaris, Hallelujah
(Trad—Tune: John Browns Body)
Singer—Josh MacRae

This is the granite in the Scottish tradition: no quarter for the Quislings. Contrast this mordant humour with its American counterpart. This is not sickness. This is Judgement.

O Dunoon is doon the watter but it's up the creek an a,
It hasnae got a paddle, it can sook while Yankees blaw,
They'll sook the dollars fae them, till they're yellin fur their Maw;
Send the Yankees hame.

Chorus:
Ban Polaris — Hallelujah,
Ban Polaris — Hallelujah,
Ban Polaris — Hallelujah,
And send the Yankees hame.

Now we're sorry fur the Yankees, they've an awfy lot tae thole,
They're either hauf-wey roon the bend, or hauf-wey up the pole.
They dither on the Dulles brink and dae the rock-an-roll,
Send the Yankees hame.

O Quislin is a traitor name that's kent the world aroon;
It's Scotland's shame tae gie a name tae ony trailor toon.
They've sunk their pride in the Firth o Clyde, a place they ca Dunoon;
Send the Yankees hame.

When Dunoon folk breathe atomic dust and drink the strontium waste,
They'll hae clever deils for bairnies, dooble-heidit, dooble-faced,
Like the fish that soom in the Holy Loch the first three-leggit race,
Send the Yankees hame.

Repeat first verse