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Alistair Hulett

"Destitution Road" (karaoke)

"Destitution Road" (sheet music)


In the Year of the Sheep and the Burning Time,

They cut our young men in their prime.

The old Scots' way was a hanging crime

For the Gaels of Caledonia.

There's a den for the fox, a hedge for the hare,

A nest in the tree for the birds of the air.

But in all Scotland, there's no place there

For the Gaels of Caledonia.

 

But there's no use getting frantic;

It's time to hump your load

Across the wild Atlantic

On the Destitution Road.

 

The bailiff came with the writ and all

And the gallant lads of the Forty-Twa.

They drove ye out in the sleet and snow:

The Gaels of Caledonia.

When your house was burned and your crops as well,

You stood and wept in the blackened shell,

And the winter moor was a living hell

For the Gaels of Caledonia.

 

But there's no use getting frantic;

It's time to hump your load

Across the wild Atlantic

On the Destitution Road.

 

The plague and the famine, they dragged you down

As you made your way to Glesgae town

Where you heard of a ship that was sailing soon

For the shores of Nova Scotia.

And you sold your gear; you paid your fare

With your head held high though your heart was sair,

And you bid farewell forever mair

To the glens of Caledonia.

 

But there's no use getting frantic;

It's time to hump your load

Across the wild Atlantic

On the Destitution Road.

 

The land was cleared and the deal was made:

Now an English lord in a tartan plaid.

He struts and stares as the mem'ries fade

Of the Gaels of Caledonia.

And he hunts the deer in the lonely glen

That once was home to a thousand men,

And the wind on the moor sings a sad refrain

For the Gaels of Caledonia.

 

But there's no use getting frantic;

It's time to hump your load

Across the wild Atlantic

On the Destitution Road.

 

Well, there's no use getting frantic;

It's time to hump your load

Across the wild Atlantic

On the Destitution Road.


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