We Will Meet Again

From the Highlands whence my granny came,

With her bonny stories so regaled;

’Twas the ‘Old Country’, she called by name,

From which long years before she sailed.

Left forever the land of her youth,

To the New World and life better fared,

And in her memories, held as truth,

With me the fair lochs and glens she shared.

In tartaned clans born of Celtic pride,

A young boy heard the pipes a-callin’,

And this promise made to the other side,

To Granny before I too am fallin’.

Aye, for you who never had the chance,

I swear it, before I’m done roamin’.

For you, I will save the final dance,

And we will meet again at Loch Lomond.