It’s a braw bricht moonlicht nicht

Now I like a man that is a man; a man that’s straight and fair.
The kind of man that will and can, in all things do his share.
Och, I like a man a jolly man, the kind of man, you know,
The chap that slaps your back and says, “Jock, just before ye go…”

Just a wee deoch an doris, just a wee drop, that’s all. 
Just a wee deoch an doris afore ye gang awa. 
There’s a wee wifie waitin’ in a wee but an ben. 
If you can say, “It’s a braw bricht moonlicht nicht”, 
Then yer a’richt, ye ken.

Refreshed winter “necessities”. My new winter traveling buddy Don “Ed” Hardy art down jacket blended with another friendly “smoking” gift – Jura Prophecy somehow wickedly correlating with my today’s Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake greenish contemplating mood perfectly.