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Voice of my Homeland ©

Ian McCrae
Sydney, Australia

I sat down by the roadside
Just the other day,
I could hear a voice calling
It came from far away:

Dark clouds are hanging heavy
The rain is pouring down,
I sat there in silence
My thoughts were homeward bound.

The green rolling hills
The bonny purple heather,
The snow drops in the spring
The ever changing weather

The voices of my family
For they have now long gone,
The ever lasting memory
That seems to linger on.

My motherís voice her gentle smile
The things she said and done,
Her hand upon my shoulder
A job-well done my son:

Out walking with my father
Walking stick in hand,
History talks on Scotland
Making sure I understand:

The voice that I hear calling
That comes from far away,
Is the voice of bonny Scotland.
I will come home one day.

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