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| Runrig The Cutter And The Clan Alba Air sgiath a' seoladh nan neoil 'S an domhain liath Mar dhealbh a' tighinn beo tro na sgothan 'S mi a' tilleadh gu tir Alba nam beanntan ard Nan acraichean lom Thairis air na lochan mointich Nan coilltean 's nan gleann Ach 'se sealladh leointe is gann Tha an seo aig ceann thall an linn Talamh alainn nan daoine Fhathast an lamhan duine no dithis Cuibhlean stolda mu dheas Na fasaichean a tuath An taigh-mor falamh an Dun-Eideann Gun chumhachd gun ghuth *Sibhse chuir achadh ri achadh Taigh ri taigh Gus nach bi ait anns an tir An gabh sibh comhnaidh air leth Ach 's math dhomh bhith seo an drasd A cur failt air a' bhlas 'San tir a tha cho ur dhomh an diugh Is a bha i nuair bha mi 'nam phaisd *Bho Isaiah 5-8 Scotland This flight is sailing through the clouds And the blue heavens The homeland appears like a developing photograph Through the mists as I return to land I see Scotland of the high mountains And the empty acres Flying low across the moorland lochs The forests and the glens But it's a wounding and a hollow sight Here as we reach the end of the century The beautiful soil of the people Still in the hands of the few I see the wheels of industry at a standstill And the northern lands wasted And the empty house in Edinburgh Without authority or voice You that have laid field upon field House upon house Till there be nowhere for you to be placed alone In the midst of all the earth But it is good for me to be here now As I welcome the warmth In this land that's as exciting for me today As it was the day I was born |
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