WAITING FOR THE WHEEL TO TURN 

Living in a place with time
Living in a place where reality is
Standing on a big broad line
Watching it all go by
Ah, but you're taking it all away
The music, the tongue and the old refrains
You're coming here to play
And you're pulling the roots from a dying age.

Remember the Buachaille Mor
Reaching for the skies from the barren shores
Watching over the village of burns
And counting the days since the gael kept home
But the stranger claims it now
Sitting like a king with his gold from the south
Don't you see the waves of wealth
Sashing away the soul from the land.

Chorus:

Here come the Clearances my friend
Silently our history is coming to life again
We feel the breeze from the shore to come
And up and down the coast
We're waiting for the wheel to turn.

Free were the fields of fern
Free was the fishing in the coves of care
Empty are the homes of old
Empty for the sake of summer's cause
Yes, you're taking it all away
The music, the tongue and the old refrains
You're coming here to play
And you're pulling the roots from a dying age. 

I MOURN FOR THE HIGHLANDS

I mourn for the Highlands, now drear and forsaken
The lands of my fathers the gallant and brave;
To make room for the sportsmen, their lands were all taken
And they had to seek out new homes far away.

Oh shame on the tyrants who brought desolation
Who banished the brave and put sheep in their place;
Where once smiled the gardens rank weeds in their station
And deer are preferred to the leal-hearted braves.

Oh where are the parents and bairns yonder rovin'
The scene o' their gladness is far o'er the main;
No blithe-hearted milk-maid now cheers at the gloaming
The herd-boy no longer seen on the plain.

But the lark is still soaring, she sings in her glory
With no one to listen her sweet morning lay;
The clansmen are gone, but their deeds live in story
Like chaff in the wind, they were borne far away.

SMILE IN YOUR SLEEP   Midi

Chorus:
Hush, hush, time to be sleeping
Hush, hush, dreams come a-creeping
Dreams of peace and of freedom
So smile in your sleep, bonny baby.

Once our valleys were ringing
With songs of our children singing
But now sheep bleat till the evening
And shielings lie empty and broken.

Chorus:

Where is our proud highland mettle
Our troops once so fierce in battle
Now stand, cowed, huddled like cattle
And wait to be shipped o'er the ocean.

Chorus:

No use pleading or praying
For gone, gone is all hope of staying
Hush, hush, the anchor's a-weighing
Don't cry in your sleep, bonny baby.  
 
These lyrics were set to the tune Mist Covered Mountains by Jim MacLean commemorating the tragedy of the Highland Clearances. The words are given here with the kind permission of Jim McLean of Duart Music.  The tune was first known as Duil ri Baile Chaolais fhaicinn (Hoping to see Ballachulish). The original tune was based on Johnny stays long at the Fair.  The midi is sequenced by Barry Taylor.

THE HIGHLAND CLEARANCES

Ye remnant of the brave!
Who charge when the pipes are heard:
Don't think, my lads, that you fight for your own,
'Tis but for the good of the land.

And when the fight is done
And you come back over the foam,
`Well done,' they say, `you are good and true,
But we cannot give you a home. 

For the land we want for the deer,
And the glen the birds enjoy,
And bad for the game is the smoke of the cot,
And the song of the crofter's boy. 

-- Mackenzie MacBride

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