| Dance upon a blue day, boys
|
| The machair flowers are white
|
| Run across the golden sands
|
| Just like the Rodal tide
|
| Let winter pass unnoticed, boys
|
| The warm rain of the Gael
|
| Has fallen like a tide today
|
| In the storm of Passchendaele
|
| Look away, brave boys
|
| No shame for you to run away
|
| Look away, brave boys
|
| Just be your father’s son
|
| Look away, brave boys
|
| No battle can be won today
|
| Look away, brave boys
|
| Just be your mother’s son
|
| Petals they are falling, boys
|
| Within a red hot blaze
|
| You’ll take their kiss of liberty
|
| And they’ll steal your loving days
|
| And then they’ll drink MacLean wine, boys
|
| With freedom’s clapping hands
|
| When all the Aros flowers, boys
|
| Lie in the fields of France
|
| Look away, brave boys
|
| No shame for you to run away
|
| Look away, brave boys
|
| Just be your father’s son
|
| Look away, brave boys
|
| No battle can be won today
|
| Look away, brave boys
|
| Just be your mother’s son
|
| Look away, brave boys
|
| No shame for you to run away
|
| Look away, brave boys
|
| Just be your father’s son |