By: Fee

When the wind blew through the tall pines

Singing the song of the highland nights

Aye, the lone piper stood on the rocky craig

Taking in the last of the summer’s sights

The purple blaze of the heather’s bloom

The last bit of green bracken on the brush

He played “Oh Danny Boy” for fallen comrades

Who had all seemed to die in the battle’s crush

The light breeze soon turned to a winter wind

That he knew was just a sign of things to come

First snowflakes drifted down like lazy sheep

His aching heart beat like a Thompson drum

Soft tears fell for all his brave lost clansman

And for his aging sweet Mather and his Da

More tears fell for his darling lassie Katherine

Left with broken heart on the shores of Tra La La

His proud plaid swirled to the bagpipes tempo

This exile looking out across the foreign sea

Nay more to see his beloved Scottish Highlands

Aye, he knew no more again could that be…