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Scotland Still ©

Ian McCrae
Sydney, Australia
2003

Homesick for Scotland still
As I wander through the rolling hills,
In my dreaming, we talk together
Over hills and through the heather.

The rocky coast line, a howling wind,
Sleet and snow, it's very grim,
The sea birds seem to understand
They can find shelter on the land.

A flashing light, a bell that rings,
A lighthouse where the seagulls sing,
My feet and hands are icy cold,
The landscapes worth, I will unfold.

Fishing boats, lobsters and creels,
Fishing nets on the drying field,
We were children all together
I love this land and its weather.

Long grass waving in the breeze,
The woodlands and the roaring seas,
Bracken in the glens below,
The hilltops hidden by the snow.

And yet, I was carried by the wind,
I do miss everything,
Streams that turn to water falls,
Friends come running when you call.

The long summer days come and go,
A fireplace that's all aglow,
A new beginning in the spring,
Alas not for everything.

In my dreaming, I am not alone,
I keep in touch with my home,
Friends and family are far apart,
Autumn leaves are falling fast.

The wind is blowing on my face,
Time rages on, at a frantic pace,
In the years that lie ahead,
Scotland still, in my head.


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