She smiles at me 

from beyond the eastern sea-shore. 

Flashing jewelled eyes, 

she hoists her skirts so high. 

Nouvelle cuisine or an oyster bar --- 

it's really up to her. 

I'll write every cheque she brings to me. 

I shoot on sight --- 

it's my European legacy. 



Round the castle walls --- 

about the Highlands and the Islands 

the faint reminders stand. 

A visitor who took a hand 

a thousand years ago, or so --- 

stranded high and dry by tides --- 

washed up a new identity. 

The channel's wide --- 

but it's their European legacy. 



I strain my eyes 

against the southern light advancing. 

On whiter cliffs I'm high. 

The sea birds roll and tumble as they fly. 

I hear distant mainland music echo 

in my island ears. 

My feet begin to move instinctively 

to the warmer beat of my European legacy. 



She smiles at me 

from beyond the eastern sea-shore. 

Flashing jewelled eyes, 

she hoists her skirts so high. 

Nouvelle cuisine or an oyster bar --- 

it's really up to her. 

I'll write every cheque she brings to me. 

She shoots on sight --- 

it's her European legacy.