The Headless Horseman

It was in the depths of winter
On the langest nicht o'th' year
That the heidless horseman made his ride
Throe the glen o' Balquiddhir,
An' oooh the people o' the glen
Wad blether, quake and fear
When the heidless horseman was aboot
On the langest nicht o'th' year.

One year, 'tis told, fog shrouded the glen
An' not a single star illumed
The road as a lone traveller set oot.
That foolish man was doomed.
Because just aforem, a cart arrived
Laden wi' oatmeal, sporrans and French wine,
A flitch of Ayrshire bacon
And a crate of kippers from McAuliffes smokehouse on the banks o' Loch Fyne

Aye, all the cargo was intact
But no driver held the reign.
The innkeeper and ostler warned that traveller
But he responded with disdain,
"No heidless horseman can frighten me
In some lonely Scottish gorge,
For I have fought the foreign foe
In the cause of Good King George.


Awa' he strode intae the mist
And was quickly lost from sight.
And none may tell what happened next
Upon Winter Solstice night.
For the man was found the next grey morn,
His brain scrambled like eggs,
And a considerable number of large, hairy warts
Had grown upon his legs..
So if you ever venture
Tae the Glen o' Balquiddhir
Keep well clear o' the heidless horseman
On the langest night o' th' year.