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I love to go hillwalking in the Scottish Highlands but rarely rise early enough to make the required car journey from my home in Edinburgh having discovered that rare occurrence a Scottish summer’s day. The Pentland Hills are not as exciting as the Highlands but being on Edinburgh’s doorstep I have often found myself taking a walk there to clear my head following a night on the town. The impact of finding myself in an area of such natural beauty, and so near the city, often only to be shattered by the outbursts of gunfire from the army firing range at Glencorse. The quiet of the hills makes the gunshots sound even louder as they echo up the hills and valleys, a rude reminder of man’s inhumanity to man.
I was startled by the rifle cracks that I heard from the Glencorse range
As I climbed Scaldlaw of a simmer’s morn tae wash my blues away
Tae wash my blues away
As I climbed on the skylark’s song soon had my heart at ease
As I tramped along my Westward path face pressed into the breeze
Face pressed into the breeze
And when I paused to take my breath and ponder on the view
My eyes were drawn tae Silverburn where I’d often sat with you
Where I’d oft times sat with you
For you’re not there to comfort me when I’m alone at night
And when each night I dream on you I long tae haud ye tight
Yes I long tae haud ye tight
So today I walk the Pentland hills Tae be with you awhile
With time tae think and time tae pause I walk these lonely miles
Tae be with you awhile
I was startled by the rifle cracks that I heard from the Glencorse range
As I climbed Scaldlaw of a simmer’s morn tae wash my blues away
Please wash my blues away