Follow The Wild Geese Home ©

At the end of the day does your heart fly,
To the lochs and the glens and the islands?
Do you dream of the Clyde or a bonnie border town?
Do the pipes make you shiver and want to see your mother?
It's been too long since you've been gone,
Too long since you've been home,
To the place that's forever in your heart.
To walk your father's steps again in the soft Scottish rain,
So follow the wild geese home.

From the wilderness of Torridon to Australia's New South Wales,
From The Black Isle to Nova Scotia,
From Fife to Dubai, New York from a croft on Skye,
A new beginning, whether forced or chasing dreams.
In San Francisco Bay do you dream of the Tay?
Do you long to walk down Princes Street once more?
At night on your rig, are your thoughts of Stirling Brig?
Follow the wild geese home.

Were your forefathers' families cleared from the land,
And sent in exile to the New World?
Did they give that foreign place a lovéd familiar name,
Of a home they would never see again?
Or did you sail on the tide seeking fortune,
On a ship that you built years before?
Did you make that last trip to the graveyard,
To say your final farewell to these shores?

For at the end of your days you know your soul will fly,
And follow the wild geese home.