作曲 : MacDonald, MacDonald | |
The old Boys | |
Are all leaving | |
Leaving one by one | |
Where young birds go flying | |
Spread your wings and run | |
But over the fields | |
By the drystone walls | |
An eagle will come no more | |
Welcome | |
Were the headlands | |
St Valery behind | |
No medals worth wasting | |
On memories of sand | |
But sweet is the breeze | |
Over Raasay | |
The morning awaits you there | |
What kind | |
Of heroes | |
Here for us now | |
Where leaders, stone preachers | |
Minnows on flow | |
But low hang the lights | |
Over Viewfield | |
And this night will day see no more | |
The old Boys | |
Are all leaving | |
Leaving one by one | |
Where young birds go flying | |
Spread your wings and run | |
But over the fields | |
By the drystone walls | |
An eagle will come no more |
zuo qu : MacDonald, MacDonald | |
The old Boys | |
Are all leaving | |
Leaving one by one | |
Where young birds go flying | |
Spread your wings and run | |
But over the fields | |
By the drystone walls | |
An eagle will come no more | |
Welcome | |
Were the headlands | |
St Valery behind | |
No medals worth wasting | |
On memories of sand | |
But sweet is the breeze | |
Over Raasay | |
The morning awaits you there | |
What kind | |
Of heroes | |
Here for us now | |
Where leaders, stone preachers | |
Minnows on flow | |
But low hang the lights | |
Over Viewfield | |
And this night will day see no more | |
The old Boys | |
Are all leaving | |
Leaving one by one | |
Where young birds go flying | |
Spread your wings and run | |
But over the fields | |
By the drystone walls | |
An eagle will come no more |
zuò qǔ : MacDonald, MacDonald | |
The old Boys | |
Are all leaving | |
Leaving one by one | |
Where young birds go flying | |
Spread your wings and run | |
But over the fields | |
By the drystone walls | |
An eagle will come no more | |
Welcome | |
Were the headlands | |
St Valery behind | |
No medals worth wasting | |
On memories of sand | |
But sweet is the breeze | |
Over Raasay | |
The morning awaits you there | |
What kind | |
Of heroes | |
Here for us now | |
Where leaders, stone preachers | |
Minnows on flow | |
But low hang the lights | |
Over Viewfield | |
And this night will day see no more | |
The old Boys | |
Are all leaving | |
Leaving one by one | |
Where young birds go flying | |
Spread your wings and run | |
But over the fields | |
By the drystone walls | |
An eagle will come no more |