though  i  a  wanderer  be
no  home  on  land  or  sea
still  my  heart  returns  to  thee
in  silent  reverie
though  on  scotland's  bonnie  shore
my  feet  shall  tread  no  more
when  i  die  will  you  bury  me
beneath  a  rowan  tree
i  love  thy  frosty  morn
where  the  hunter  winds  his  horn
and  thy  heathered  moors  and  glens
i'll  not  roam  again
though  on  scotland's  purple  breast
i  no  longer  take  my  rest
when  i  die  will  you  bury  me
beneath  a  rowan  tree
at  brave  cunoden's  stand
highland  blood  like  water  ran
with 30,000pounds  upon  my  head
for  dear  life 1fled
oh  but  though  no  crown  i  won
i'll  always  be  yom'native  son
so  when  i  die  will  you  bury  me
beneath  a  rowan  tree
beneath  a  rowan  tree