The horizon was cloaked
As the ship neared its destination
Weeks at sea
Our minds filled with anticipation

The Clydeside shipyards
Grey and green from water
Forced upon us
A past we could not alter

Saint Andrew hear our plea
We fishermen and Scotsmen are your charge
Our lives indentured
Chained to this barge

The stone of destiny
On this land found
Our future stolen
While sovereigns crowned

Return our Gaelic dreams
To the rugged highlands
Where our fathers’ tales wandered
The hills, islands and southern uplands