O, I love Scotland's glens, and whatever else we lose
Leave us our glens, our glorious glens
Our mountains as grand, Ben Lomond, Ben Nevis too
You can keep all these Bens, just leave us our glens

Glenfiddich, Glendronach, Glenlivet, Glen Grant
Can you do without them? If you must know, I can't
Put a drop in the glass of Glen Spey or Glen Drotter
It's a perfectly bearable way to drink water

I'd willingly lose our culture, or most of it
Including that mess called 'full Highland dress'
With the whole ethnic bit with haggis and Hogmanay
I would gladly dispense, but leave us our glens

Glenfiddich, Glendronach, Glenlivet, Glen Fall
I once knew a man who had sampled them all
Glenisla, Glenugie, Glenkinchie, that's plenty
He looked sixty-five, but in fact he was twenty

Take our Highlands scottische, or marches, strathspeys and reels
Take our old Scottish waltz, but leave us our malts
Remove if you will, our ladies' conveniences
And our gentlemen's - but leave us our glens

Glenfiddich, Glendronach, Glenlivet, Glenfyne
Was rare [bad word] when we ran out of wine
Glenisla, Glenugie, Glenkinchie, Glenmorangie
I prefer them to Cointreau which I find too orangey

Oh breathe there a Scot whose views and priorities
When laid on the line, are different from mine
Take our jobs take our homes, take anything else you will
Take family and friends, but leave us our glens