Here's a song from Robin Laing, celebrating the virtues of the 'crayture', an anthem to "the pulse of one small nation". These lyrics outshine the gorgeous song, IMO.
Take clear water from the hill
And barley from the lowlands.
Take a master craftsman's skill
And something harder to define,
Like secrets in the shape of coppered stills
Or the slow, silent, magic work of time.
Whiskey or the devil in disguise
At least to some that's the way it seems
But you're more like an angel in my eyes
Catch the heady vapours as they rise
And turn them into dreams
Bring home sherry casks from Spain, Sanlucar de Barrameda,
And fill them up again
With the spirit of the land.
Then let the wood work to the spirits gain
In a process no one fully understands.
Whiskey or the devil in disguise
At least to some that's the way it seems
But you're more like an angel in my eyes
Catch the heady vapours as they rise
And turn them into dreams
Oh, the spirit starts out clear,
But see the transformation
After many patient years
When at last the tale unfolds.
For the colours of the seasons will appear
From palest yellow to the deepest gold.
Whiskey or the devil in disguise
At least to some that's the way it seems
But you're more like an angel in my eyes
Catch the heady vapours as they rise
And turn them into dreams
When you hold it in your hand
It's the pulse of one small nation
So much more than just a dram
You can see it if you will -
The people and the weather and the land.
The past into the present is distilled.
Whiskey or the devil in disguise
At least to some that's the way it seems
But you're more like an angel in my eyes
Catch the heady vapours as they rise
And turn them into peaceful peasent dreams.
... I'm sober these days but still very much appreciate the craft and the rare drop or two of the creature upon my tongue. Thanks for your post and the reminder.
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