(Chorus:)
Cold wind ‘cross Cawdor’s keep
won’t waken wild John’s sleep
repeat
Wild places, dark scree faces
the stag’s roar, by Cawdor sounds
the rut’s strathspey.
White snow sky, corbies hard cry
Red Grouse call, come nightfall
send the day away!
(Chorus)
Highland hunting tower, guards the glen,
Banquo’s spirit power stalks the night again,
at Cawdor, Cawdor, Cawdor.
Grey geese skein, song to dead thane
His pibroch “The Quiet Loch” rises on the mist.
Cruel Claymore, bloodshed, clan war.
No reprieving, cattle rieving, avenged
with the dirk’s twist.
(Chorus)
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