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

But you're pulling the roots from a dying age

Remember the Buachaille Mor

Reaching for the skies from the barren shores

Watching o'er the village of Burns

And counting the days since the gael kept home

Well, the stranger claims it now

Sitting like a king with his gold from the south

Don't you see the waves of wealth

Washing away the soul from the land?

Here come the Clearances, my friend

Silently our history is coming to life again

We feel the breeze from the storm to come

And up and down this 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

But you're pulling the roots from a dying age