Four score, (forget and ten...
Four score, (forget 'and ten'!)
Is more life than many men.
It's measured out, by weeks by days,
Years celebrate the many ways
You have long campaigned.
You've marched in sun, and when it rained,
Leaflets, yellow bag in hand,
Envelopes in elastic bands.
Thrashing streets, (the Napiers!),
Marshalling the volunteers.
To build freedom and a nation
Is more than self-determination.
It's keeping on, keeping on,
(When few are singing your same song.)
It's many a cake-fest led by Ann,
Thronged with your fellow man.
Burns nights, slow fund-raising,
Ever hopeful, wild, star-gazing,
Endless effort for little praise,
Spirits (and bars) to raise,
Your belief in Scotland
Has no end.
This idea, living in our hearts,
This hope, to challenge all false starts,
Is resilient, as members come and go,
Because you are rooted in what you know.
The past, in its purest sense,
Is what informs the present tense.
Because of you, in all your stages,
This dream's alive, well down the ages.
To you, now eighty, no more a swain,
We praise our convenor's name: