My Home, My Holt

On Coopers Creek one Autumn day
I spied a drifter and knew
This drifter, he hailed me, and had need of ale
So I welcomed in the shrew

I scented his woes as we sipped the tin
And the sunlight began fading away
He sang me his tale and mourned of his kin
But soon he would be on his way

All were a'fear o' the sword and the Scourge
Cast he to the winds and the ways of the birds
Drowning in ashes and scoured by the rain
His home, his holt, lay far, far away

Near Thistle Brae, on followed morn
A hedgehog came soldiering by
Her spines askew, her aprons was torn
Her eyes too heavy to cry

We broke fast in silence
Ere she carried on
Her kinfolk, the highlands
Their homes are now gone

Now we'll play the violin, we'll drone out the dirge
We'll beat the tabor, we'll muster the courage
We will lay down the wandering and take time to say
My home, my holt, I'll mourn you this day
Our home, our holt, we'll mourn you this day

From storming sea, the pirate, he fell
Ere this October last
His cutlass a razor, his armor a shell
His tail a merciless lash

We ran from flames the searats had kindled
Our homes and the dead left behind
Our riven clans, our families now dwindled
This song of woe is mine

All were a'fear o' the sword and the Scourge
Cast we to the winds and the ways of the birds
Drowning in ashes and scourged by the rain
Our homes, our holts, lay far, far away

Now we'll play the violin, we'll drone out the dirge
We'll beat the tabor, we'll muster the courage
We will lay down the wandering and take time to say
My home, my holt, I'll mourn you this day
Our home, our holt, we'll mourn you this day