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lyrics

I remember Tam when he was just wee, Aye Screechin’ up and doon, dancin’ on his Daddy’s knee. He was couthy he was cantie: the limmer chiel of all. But, that’s afore he signed up to the big, black mill.
Aye it’s blind to your vision; take a wise man or a fool. It’s that black dug waiting for you after Sunday school. Angle bondage buying is in, nae getting off Scot-free.
The Black Mill’s winding up a death for you and me.
Black Mill. Still be turning in your grave. Black Mill. Get some more labour wi’ the lave. Black Mill. Save you if you sell your soul. Black Mill. Be the death of one and all.
So all make your mark. Sign sweat and blood right here. Nae need to spend a penny when you’re shovelling it for free. Your hopes will fall like wheat afore the farmers flail. Grind your dreams out wi’ the chaff, to the burling of a sail.
The partin’ kiss of death is your only hopes release. Until then your treading, lonely loam beneath the heath. Tam was aye the man, but a man wi’ nae is damned. It’s last bell just for fools and you’re packed off clocked on. You’re tiltin’ at its arms.

credits

from Howlin' Heavin' Shanties, released September 29, 2002
Lyrics and Music: K Longmuir
Tune: Traditional

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Junkman's Choir Scotland, UK

Junkman's Choir are a two man band with a global sound; playing a mix of Cajun, country sea shanties, rockin' reels and spinning some twists and turns on the works of Rabbie Burns.
The sound of accordion, pocket trumpet, guitar and vocals, is as unique as it is infectious.
Look out for them on street or stage, stomping out their steel-toed rhythm.
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