Twa corbies

Up early and out for a walk before noon. Wonders will never cease!
Passed these two crows on my way to the post office to pay my road tax. Seems a lot of money for such a wee car that doesn't take up a lot of room on the road. Something to do with emissions apparently...

I was going to link to the Corries (the folkie people that gave us that dirge which has unfortunately been adopted as our national anthem) singing a song called, appropriately enough, "Twa Corbies" but when I listened to it I remembered why I never went to folk clubs. So I give you the original poem instead. And no, I don't understand some of the words either...

As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t'other say,
'Where sall we gang and dine to-day?'

'In behint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there,
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.

'His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady's ta'en another mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.

'Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pike out his bonny blue een;
Wi ae lock o his gowden hair
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.

'Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken where he is gane;
Oer his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair.'