| With the Campbells and McDonalds, it was in their blood to fight
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| With each passing generation it became a mans birthright
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| But they always had a common enemy
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| Never would the English crown take Scottish independency
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| Oh the battles rage in Glasgow and majestic Edinburgh
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| And they came with war machines and in the highlands shots were heard
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| Then the people rose in union and the forces moved as one
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| And the Clans all joined together to see English on the run
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| And in a tiny croft in Clachan sat a mother, Peg Macdunn
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| And she sewed the cords together for her 16 year old son
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| And she cried as he was leaving, donâ
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| And come you back to Clachan when the English are all done
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| Now Rob Macdunn was ready as the left the croft behind
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| And he joined the highland pipe brigade with one thing on his mind
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| That to keep his home and freedom he must face it like a man
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| So he marched in common union with his musket in his hand
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| And he met the hill of battle in the highlands and the low
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| And the reason for the fighting long within his blood to know
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| In the middle of the rumble he was forward gaining ground
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| And the bagpipes still were piping as the dead lay all around
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| Then he moved in no direction till he faced the winds of North
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| And he boldly climbed the highlands, further from the Firth of Forth
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| Then one freezing, blowing morning, came the cry of Peg Macdunn
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| Back to my croft in Clachan God has sent me home my son
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| And in another croft in Clachan cross the way from the Macdunnâ
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| With her face against the window sat a young girl, tired and worn
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| And she smiled a secret knowing as she breathed a prayer alone:
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| «I thank thee, Lord, for bringing Rob Macdunn back safely home»
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| Back to the croft in Clachan, he returned to peace again
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| He had gone a boy of 16, but he came back as a man |