The Song Of Old Glencoe

There's a mist moving over the mountain

Close to the place I call home

Where the song of the sparrow and the whistling of the trees

Pulls me in like I was their own

Too-loor-a-lie-o

Too-loor-a-lie-o

Too-loor-a-lie-o

The song of Old Glen Coe

Let me tell you the tail of a traveller

Who knew not the hills he had roamed

When he saw his reflection in the water crystal clear

It was then he knew he was home

Too-loor-a-lie-o

Too-loor-a-lie-o

Too-loor-a-lie-o

The song of Old Glen Coe

Woah

Woah

Woah

Woah

Woah

Woah

Woah

The song of Old Glen Coe

Too-loor-a-lie-o

Too-loor-a-lie-o

Too-loor-a-lie-o

The song of Old Glen Coe

The song of Old Glen Coe