In fourteen hundred, thirteen and more, The drums of war began to roar, From England’s king came marching down, To take back Stirling’s battered crown. (Verse 2) But Bruce stood firm with fewer men, In woods and marsh, he chose his pen, The ground was tight, the path was thin, A trap was set to pull them in. (Pre-Chorus) Outnumbered hearts, but not afraid, With pikes like walls their lines were made… (Chorus) Oh Bannockburn, where legends rise, Where steel met fate beneath grey skies, The mighty fell, the proud did run, Before the will of Scotland’s son. (Verse 3) Day one saw sparks of clash and flame, A knight cut down in Bruce’s name, The English stalled, unsure, confined, While Scottish courage grew in mind. (Verse 4) At dawn they prayed upon the field, Then surged ahead with spear and shield, The horses broke, the lines gave way, The marshland sealed the English fate that day. (Bridge) A crowded field, no room to flee, The river, mud, their enemy, A king escaped, his army lost, A victory won at heavy cost. (Chorus) Oh Bannockburn, where legends rise, Where steel met fate beneath grey skies, The mighty fell, the proud did run, Before the will of Scotland’s son… (Outro) And through the years the story’s told, Of freedom won by hearts so bold, A nation’s crown, a turning tide, Where Scotland stood—and would not hide.
