[Based on a poem by Violet Jacob, adapted by Beth Malcolm, and a tune called ‘The Beautiful Goretree’ by Tommy Peoples]
I canna see ye, Lad I canna see ye
for the road ootby is dim wi nicht
Your licht, your licht a sicht for the weary
Lad ye live and its mysel that’s deid
Ye gaed awa, ye gaed tae France
And the toon is grey wi empty streets
Nae mair, nae mair can I see yer face
Lad, ye live, and it’s mysel that’s deid
Beside the brae, and soughin’ through the rashes,
Yer voice sings at ilka turn,
Amang the whins, an’ whaur the water washes
The goretree wi’ its feet amang the burn.
Come hame tae me when day is fleein’
And the road is dim wi’ nicht,
Lad, your hands, a touch for the weary,
Lad, when I see ye, I will be blind wi’ licht.
Come back tae me-et me by the goretree
Come back tae me-et me by the goretree
Come back tae me-et me by the goretree
Come back tae me-et me by the goretree