| Oh, no more will I rove no more, it’s over
|
| Oh, no more will I rove no more, it’s done
|
| I’ll sit beneath the fiddle tree
|
| With the ghost of Neil Gow next to me
|
| Listen, Neil, your apprentice has begun
|
| An old man looks in his inglenook and he wonders
|
| His brother in a foreign land he must remain
|
| Deived about the life he’d choose
|
| They each would wear the other one’s shoes
|
| This motherland is a sourc of constant pain
|
| Oh, no more will I rove no more, it’s ovr
|
| Oh, no more will I rove no more, it’s done
|
| I’ll sit beneath the fiddle tree
|
| With the ghost of Neil Gow next to me
|
| Listen, Neil, your apprentice has begun
|
| All my life I have lived within these borders
|
| While he has gone to retrieve the setting sun
|
| In the pitch-black Highland night
|
| He’s toiling in the sunshine bright
|
| Do the time while summer passes by
|
| Oh, no more will I rove no more, it’s over
|
| Oh, no more will I rove no more, it’s done
|
| I’ll sit beneath the fiddle tree
|
| With the ghost of Neil Gow next to me
|
| Listen, Neil, your apprentice has begun
|
| Rumbling Brig, I heard your voices calling
|
| In the outback, still I hear your song
|
| Feeding from this foreign field
|
| With far more fish than the burn could yield
|
| This trip will be my last and it won’t be long
|
| Oh, no more will I rove no more, it’s over
|
| Oh, no more will I rove no more, it’s done
|
| I’ll sit beneath the fiddle tree
|
| With the ghost of Neil Gow next to me
|
| Listen, Neil, your apprentice has begun
|
| Oh, no more will I rove no more, it’s over
|
| Oh, no more will I rove no more, it’s done
|
| I’ll sit beneath the fiddle tree
|
| With the ghost of Neil Gow next to me
|
| Listen, Neil, your apprentice has begun |