| Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing,
|
| Onward the sailors cry,
|
| Carry the lad that is born to be King,
|
| Over the sea to Skye.
|
| Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar,
|
| Thunderclouds rend the air,
|
| baffled our foes, stand on the shore,
|
| follow they will not dare.
|
| Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing,
|
| Onward the sailors cry,
|
| Carry the lad that is born to be King,
|
| Over the sea to Skye.
|
| Many’s the lad fought on that day,
|
| Well the Claymore could wield,
|
| When the night came, silently lay
|
| Dead in Culloden’s field.
|
| Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing
|
| Onward the sailors cry.
|
| Carry the lad that’s born to be king
|
| Over the sea to Skye
|
| Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep,
|
| Ocean’s a royal bed.
|
| Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep
|
| Watch by your weary head.
|
| Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing
|
| Onward the sailors cry.
|
| Carry the lad that’s born to be king
|
| Over the sea to Skye |