Boots on the wet stone path
Glen wind in my face
Kettle on in the bothy
Smoke hanging in place
I learned my name from the hills
From the burn and the peat
From a hand on my shoulder
And a drum at my feet
So sing it low
Then sing it loud
Carry the word
Through the crowd
Oh, Scotland, keep me
Hold me close
Oh, Scotland, keep me
Down this road
carry me home
carry me home
Minchin on the table
Salt on the bread
Lantern by the window
Red sky overhead
Gran told stories soft
Of sailors and snow
Of lads on the moorland
Who never let go
So sing it low
Then sing it loud
Carry the word
Through the crowd
Oh, Scotland, keep me
Hold me close
Oh, Scotland, keep me
Down this road
carry me home
carry me home
When the rain hits the ridge
And the dark rolls in
I hear the old voices
Under my skin
No matter how far
No matter how wide
That river of memory
Keeps me inside
Oh, Scotland, keep me
Hold me close
Oh, Scotland, keep me
Down this road
Oh, Scotland, keep me
Sing me home
carry me home
carry me home