Dear old Scotland

by Ian Thomas Neilson
(Preston Lancashire England)

From the sweet Scottish rain a river wends its way,
From the hills up above to a low lying bay,
You can stand there and watch the passing of the day,
As the river in its moods, moves far, far, away,

Oh I love dear old Scotland, the place that I call home,
Yes I love dear old Scotland, no matter where I roam,
And my hearts turning back to the place that I love best,
Yes my hearts turning back and in Scotland it will rest,

All around are the hills that sweep down to the sea,
Where the ocean meets the river and the birds fly free,
With the sunlight on the water and the seagulls o’er the sea,
It’s a picture on a postcard of the land that beckons me,

Oh I love dear old Scotland, the place that I call home,
Yes I love dear old Scotland, no matter where I roam,
And my hearts turning back to the place that I love best,
Yes my hearts turning back and in Scotland it will rest,

It’s a story told in song by the wise men who can see,
It’s a land of the strong it’s a land of the free,
And the passing of the years they don’t mean much to me,
Just as long as their in Scotland in a place down by the sea,

Oh I love dear old Scotland, the place that I call home,
Yes I love dear old Scotland, no matter where I roam,
And my hearts turning back to the place that I love best,
Yes my hearts turning back and in Scotland it will rest,

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