A black leaf owre a white leaf twirls,
My liver’s shadow on my soul,
And clots o’ bluid loup oot frae stems
That back into the jungle rin,
Or in the waters underneath
Kelter like seaweed, while I hear
Abune the thunder o’ the flood,
The voice that aince commanded licht
Sing ‘Scots Wha Ha’e’ and hyne awa’
Like Cruivie up a different glen,