Oh once there was a farmer
He was an Eastern highlander
He a Scottish boarderer, so many years ago
Each night he'd give his bag a squeeze
His pipes would echo on the breeze
The music rolled with graceful ease
The Penhalonga Piper
The night that they attacked him
Were rockets on a homely hearth
The anger rose up in the heart
To the Penhalonga Piper
He reached for his long-rifle
And when heâd fired every round
He played the highland battle sound
The Penhalonga Piper
The Vendens (??) did not want to fight
The Squrlin (??) devils in the night
They fled in fear and in fright to
The Penhalonga Piper
They fled in one big yellow streak
And ran in dune to Mozambique
And he was angry for a week
The Penhalonga Piper
[Lyrics transcribed by The Ghost of Ian Smith in June of 2019]
