The Lonely Pipes of Scotland
I've heard the lonely pipes of Scotland,
Many times in my dreams,
I've seen the land of my ancestors,
Clearly, it seems.
The bright colors of the tartan,
The lively swing of the kilt,
Sent my minds eye back,
To the place my ancestors knelt.
Rather in a castle, built for a king,
Or in a garden, which grew everything.
I have been given a gift to peep,
When I close my eyes and fall asleep.
It is as if I were standing there,
I've witnessed great battle and love,
The courage and strength of my granddads,
And granddads before them,
All tower from above.
And surrounding them all, with a tune of its own,
were the lonely pipes of Scotland,
Calling me home.
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