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Drums in the Silent Forest of Dreams ©

Mike Barclay
Münster, Germany

Tears are falling, made out heart's blood
The old memories are awakened
Side by side we fight the world
The dark enemies in red
Will feel our mighty wall
Our hearts never fall
The proud ancient ghosts are living in our dreams
Swords made of fire and blue steel
Waiting for the next morning dew
The glade of fearless voices
And the call of our proud Scottish hearts
Listen to the silence of wise old trees
In the forgotten forest of old dreams
A lonely bagpipe sings a love song of grace
My dear brother in arms
We fight like thunder and lightning
When the drums break the silence
In the young morning sun of new Scottish hopes
Let us paint our faces
With the blood of Scotland’s enemies
And let us heal the wounds of the thistle
With our lifeblood we kiss the beautful Scottish Rose
In the end we will hail our victory
On the field of gore and pain

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