Scotland, I’m Coming Home To You

4 Jan

away across the ocean’s a homeland

and the rolling hills of Scotland seem to call my name

she’s a land that waits for no one, especially me man,

if I was never born Scotland would be the same

But, somewhere in the verses that they’ve written

somewhere there’s a rhyme beneath the poorest rain

down where the heart of Scotland’s pride is hidden

buried in a grave, the stone it reads my name

and I’ll dance the ‘Reel of Toluchgorum’ gladly

I’ll paint a melody upon the tabor and the fife

I’ll shake the hands of my ancestry madly

and I swear by god, if it’s the last thing in my life I ever do,

Scotland, I’m coming home to you

as Scotland bears the fiery cross of Fraser

my namesake and my blood far from American land

I only hope to greet her, not amaze her

to be one of many men to feel her healing hand

my own Father’s lost all sense of where his roots are

and without his kith and kin, a highland man is lost

but I stand in place of him wherever my boots are

To lose the sight of her carries a heavy cost

May 23, 1991 Copyright 1991-2010, brent david fraser, all rights reserved

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