We’ll mak our maut and we’ll brew our drink,
We’ll laugh, sing and rejoice, man
And mony braw thanks to the meikle black deil
That danc’d awa wi’ th’ Exciseman.
The fires of Scotland burn tonight in tribute to the bard of the Highlands,
so prepare to get bare-breasted in old Highland manner! Toast to the defeat of the Long-shank with a solid Dalmore 12 year old.
Sit back, cross your legs (you're wearing a kilt after all) and prepare your face with woad. We give you Brian Cox reading Tam-O 'Shanter.
Old Tweedy would like to point out that he, like all good Englishmen, remains unmoved by all this Burns rambling twaddle. Instead he shall to his bed with a copy of the complete Shakespeare, some Gin and a large box of man sized tissues, God for Harry indeed.
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