[pre-intro banter, spoken]
This is beautiful, behind us. The light is shining so you can just see nylon-clad knees. You're talking about a mermaid having only one [?] *you— you leave that right alone*
Ah well sure

[Introduction, spoken]
Strange as it may seem there are quite songs in Ireland, too. One of the oldest sort of themes, laments sin the world is the lament of a woman for her man who has gone into battle, she may never see him again. And, uh, this is a Scots song about that, it's a very quiet song. And uh, it's about a woman on the docks as her man is sailing away in a troop ship somewhere in the last century. It's called thе Wars of Germany

[Verse 1]
Woe be to thе orders that took my love awa'
And woe be to the cruel cause that gars my tears doon fall;
And woe be to the [fon ?] wars of High Germany
For they have ta'en my love and left a broken heart wi' me

The drums beat in the morning before the screich o day
And the wee, wee fifes played loud and shrill while yet the morn was gray;
And, the bonnie flags were ey unfurled, a gallant sight to see
And woe to me for my soldier lad was marched to Germany
When I went there to see my lowe embark for Germany

As I looked o'er the broad blue sea as long as could be seen
The wee small sail upon the ship soldier lad was in
And, aye, the wind blowed snare and snell and the ship sailed speedily
And the waves and cruel wars have twyned my winsome lowe from me