Sunday, November 18, 2012

I Lay Dying.


I Lay Dying.





Sing to me my darling,
For it shall be the last.
I fought the duke,
Who came to own you,
He'll not harm a hair,
'Pon your pretty head,
Though I'll lay here, dead.

I have loved you truly,
Pretty sweet flower of Scotland.
In your arms I have rejoiced,
And lived the life I dreamed.
You have been the reason,
I fought today in blood,
Remember me whilst I lay dying.