nothing-rhymes-with-ianto:

dudeufugly:

Ye Banks and Braes

Ye banks and braes o’ bonnie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary, fu’ o’ care!
You’ll break my heart, you warbling bird, 
That wantons thro’ the flowering thorns! 
Thou minds me o’ departed joys,
Departed, never to return.

Aft hae I rov’d by bonnie Doon
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
When ilka bird sang o’ its luve, 
And fondly sae did I o’ mine;
Wi’ lightsome heart I pu’d a rose,
Fu’ sweet upon its thorny tree!
But my fause luver stole my rose - 
And, ah! he left the thorn wi’ me.
- Robert Burns sung by John Barrowman

We sang this song in choir. So I can sing harmony every time it comes on my mp3 player.