Roger Whittaker - Skye boat song



Speed bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,

Onward, the sailors cry

Carry the lad that's born to be king

Over the sea to Skye



Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar,

Thunder clouds rend the air;

Baffled our foe's stand on the shore

Follow they will not dare



Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep

Ocean's a royal bed

Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep

Watch by your weary head



Many's the lad fought on that day

Well the claymore could wield

When the night came, silently lay

Dead on Culloden's field



Burned are our homes, exile and death

Scatter the loyal men

Yet, e'er the sword cool in the sheath,

Charlie will come again.