| Come gather in my lungs Scottish wind |
| Belt out your blackest poems |
| As the sea around you sings |
| When that drone takes to the air |
| A single note to raise my hair |
| Carry songs beyond my lungs |
| Cold Scottish wind |
| Come fall upon my shoulders, Scottish rain |
| And dissolve all of the worry |
| That has hunched this back of mine |
| So the hurt run down the drain to the reservoir |
| One day I’ll add a drop of my own worries |
| To a dram |
| Gather heavy in these long Scottish winds |
| All the fag smoke in the ether |
| Of the grouse has clipped your wings |
| Now I cough just like my granddad |
| And his grandpa before him |
| Ah, blow youth into these lungs |
| Oh, Scottish wind |
| Come burl around my body, Scottish blood |
| I’ll try not to spill a drop |
| Oh, I’m sure you’ve spilled enough |
| And the English f**king rule |
| Who mean nothing to these times |
| Ah, run forever in my veins |
| Bold Scottish blood |
| And the whisper to my mouth, soft Scottish winds |
| Just enough to say I love you |
| To the girl who keeps me sane |
| Take the stupid things I’ve said |
| Blow them miles and miles away |
| Thank you in advance, Scottish wind |
| Thank you in advance, Scottish wind |