Five hundred tons of tarry chips arrived at Coll one day.
They came on one of Gardener's ships, new surfaces to lay
Upon the meagre single-tracks they Coll the Queen s highway
That wander forth from Arinagour right out past Cornaig Bay.

The workmen were all ready with a muckle great machine
That lays the tarmac perfectly, it's called a Barber-Green,
They'd a tipper and a loader and a brush to sweep things clean.
And each worker had a shovel, so he had somewhere to lean.

But the Barber-Green's digestive tract had insufficient power

To digest and then disgorge the chips that lay at Arinagour

Though the workers fought and struggled for the best part of an hour,
Before sitting by the wayside there, their pieces to devour.

Now a constipated Barber-Green, I think you might agree,

Is not a thing of beauty nor of great efficiency,

And the chips were all congealing where they'd landed on the quay,
So somebody decided they should ditch them in the sea.

It appears that this decision, which was called for with some haste,
To the canny Collach cottars seemed to be a shameful waste,

So the word went round the island, and the Collachs promptly raced,
To avail themselves of bounty so propitiously placed.

The crofters came with tractors and the cottars came with pails,
They had tarry chips in barrows, and if you believe the tales,

They had poly-bags and pocketsful and boxes stacked like bales,
And they moved so fast behind them they were leaving vapour trails.

There was tarmac laid round steadings, tarmac paths down to the shore,
Tarmac paths round byres and buildings where no path had led before,
For the first time in Coli's history, a path to every door

Had been neatly laid with tarmac - it was tar and chips Galore.