So you think you're gaein' tae the north to spend a holiday 'Cause you're vaguely Scottish on your mither's side And you've heard of ancient glories both renowned in song and story Kilts and haggis, Andy Stewart and the Clyde Ye go up by Crianlarich, it's the gateway to the north And the scenery will please your eyes I'm sure Ye take oot your picnic basket 'cause the car has blown a gasket In the middle o' a place called Rannoch Moor So you telephone the garage listed in the tourist guide That was published for you by the R.A.C. But by design, or by intention, or, they just forget to mention That the garage closes doon for half past three So you're towed behind this tractor tae a corrugated shed That's surrounded by farm implements and carts And you scratch your head and wonder why you ever bought a Honda 'Cause they'll have to send to Tokyo for the parts So you board the train for Oban and you get the boat to Mull Feeling like you've had a night upon the tiles Ye pay twenty pence for coffee with a tang o' diesel oil Your experience in the swindle o' the isles But your pulse begins to quicken at the thought of berry-pickin' So you take a trip to 'Gowrie for a spell Wi' some wellies o' your mothers that she bought in Ali Brothers And a Gideon bible pinched frae yer hotel So you're standing picking rasps being stung to death by wasps The midges and the clegs are making free And the bairns have ate the berries and contracted dysentery 'Cause last week they sprayed the crop with DDT So you're headin' back to Birmingham more waterlogged than tanned But no signs of habitation can you see When you thought you were in Berwick you were actually in Lerwick 'Cause some vandal changed the signpost in Dundee clegs - horseflies