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| TO THE SCOTTISH SOLDIER |
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| There was a soldier a Scottish soldier, Who wandered far away and soldiered far away, There was none bolder with good broad shoulder, He'd fought in many a fray and fought and won, He'd seen the glory, he told the story, of battles glorious and deeds victorious, But now he's sighing, his heart is crying, To leave these green hills of Tyrol ... Because those green hills are not Highland hills, Or the Island hill, they're not my lands hills, And fair as these green foreign hills may be, They are not the hils of home ... And now this soldier, this Scottish soldier, Who wandered far away and soldiered far away, Sees leaves are falling, and death is calling, And he will fade away in that far land, He called his piper, his trusty piper, And bade him sound a lay, a pilloch sad to play, Upon a hillside, a Scottish hillside, Not on those green hills of Tyrol ... Because those green hills, are not Highland hills, Or the Island hill, they're not my lands hills, And fair as these green foreign hills may be, They are not the hills of home ... And now this soldier, this Scottish soldier, Will wander far no more and soldier far no more, And on a hillside, a Scottish hillside, You'll see a piper play his soldier home, He'd seen the glory, he's told the story, Of battles glorious and deeds victorious, The bugels cease now, he is at peace now, Far from those green hills of Tyrol ... Becase those green hills are not Highland hills, Or the Island hill, they're not my lands hills, And fair as these green foreign hils may be, They are not the hills of home ... Because those green hills are not Highland hills, Or the Island hill, they're not my lands hills, And fair as these green foreign hills may be, They are not the hills of home ..... |