Traditional
Chorus
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.
Loud the wind howls, loud the waves roar
Thunder claps rend the air
Baffled our foes, stand on the shore
Follow they will not dare.
Though the waves leap, soft will he sleep
Ocean's a royal bed
Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep
Watch by his weary head.
Many's the lad fought on that day
Well the claymore did wield
When the night came silently lay
Dead on Culloden field.
Burned are our homes, exile and death
Scatter the loyal men;
Yet ere the Sword cool in the sheath
(alt: Wait for the day and silently pray)
Charlie will come again!
Performer(s) Whistler McEwan,
Thorvald Grimsson