The fox, he's got a canny eye
That lingers on the snow so deep
He casts the spell that breaks the spring
And lifts us from our winter sleep

We grind the axe and hone the blade
Just like the ones who went before
Brave spirits rising in the mists
On the battle field of Culloden Moor

No one to work the stony ground
With calloused hands of skin and bone
To toil from dawn to setting sun
Just like our fathers' did before

The one I love, she waits for me
Alas she waits in vain
For an English arrow in my chest
Has laid me in my grave

I'll wait for her beyond the bays
Of sorrows and refrain
And in the breath of springtime
I'll take her home again

Now the wind it seeks the solace
Of the Highlands and the moors
It mingles with the piper's song
Above the rising storm

An ancient song of freedom
For those still left to mourn
An ancient song of freedom
For those still left to mourn