TO KATHARINE DE MATTOS
It's ill to loose the bands that God decreed to bind
Still will we be the children of the heather and the wind.
Far away from home, O it'ss still for you and me
That the broom is blowing bonnie in the north countrie.
TO KATHARINE DE MATTOS
It's ill to loose the bands that God decreed to bind
Still will we be the children of the heather and the wind.
Far away from home, O it'ss still for you and me
That the broom is blowing bonnie in the north countrie.