And a child is what you are to Mr and Mrs Smith. Something to hold onto. Carry the lad that's born to be king. Over the sea the Skye Loud the winds howl. Loud the waves roar.
Thunderclaps rend the air.
Baffled our foes. Stand by the shore. Follow they will not dare. Many's the lad fought on that day. Wield the Claymore did weal.