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Runrig
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Fichead Bliadhna
Running in the moors Running in the hills And then to school at the end of summer Children, Five years of age, Without a word of English in my head
Here is your book, Here is your pen. 'Study hard', that's what they told me, 'And you will rise up in the world, You will get ahead.'
Twenty years for the truth I had to wait I had to search Twenty years of lies They denied me knowledge of myself.
I learned many things The English language, the poetry of England The music of Germany The history of Spain And even that was a false history
Then on to further education Following education, more education Like idiots on the end of a string Our heads filled with a sort of learning 更多更詳盡歌詞 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔鏡歌詞網
Twenty years for the truth I had to wait I had to search Twenty years of lies They denied me knowledge of myself.
And I did rise in the world I found my suit, I found my shirt I found a place in the eyes of men Well away from the freedom of the moor
But why did they keep our history from us? I'll tell you they are frightened In case the Gaels rise With searching and penetrating questions.
Twenty years for the truth I had to wait I had to search Twenty years of lies They denied me knowledge of myself.
When I started searching I could not believe my eyes, evil works.
['Many a thing I have seen in my own day and generation. I have seen the townships swept, and the holdings being made of them. The people being driven out of the countryside to the streets of Glasgow and to the wilds of Canada, such as them that did not die of hunger and plague and smallpox while going across the ocean. I have seen the women putting the children in the carts which were being sent from Benbecula and the Iochdar to Loch Boisdale, while their husbands lay bound in the pen and were weeping beside them, without power to give them a helping hand, though the women themselves were crying aloud and their little children wailing like to break their hearts. I have seen the big strong men, the champions of the countryside, the stalwarts of the world, being bound on Loch Boisdale quay and cast into the ships as would be done to a batch of horses or cattle in the boat. The bailiffs and the constable and the policemen gathered behind them in pursuit of them. The God of life and He only knows all the loathsome work of men on that day.']
Twenty years and still ignorant
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