I copied the lyrics from this website but made a few corrections and marked a few uncertainties:


THE ISLES OF HIRTA
As sung by Derek Williamson in a video at the Irish Traditional Music Archive, 2010.

Our islands were so wild and free.
We took our living from the sea.
Our women sang as they wove the tweed
Upon the Isles of Hirta.

CHORUS: Oh, cruel man, you breached/wreaked(?) such strife.
You killed my brother and his wife.
You’ve ta’en away my way of life
Upon the Isles of Hirta.

The wind it washed upon the rocks.
We hunted fulmar in their flocks.
The wind it made our houses rock
Upon the Isles of Hirta.

We worked in common at the chores
On puffin cliffs and poor(?) tors.
Of farming ways we could name but four
Upon the Isles of Hirta. CHORUS

We spoke the English and the Gaelic tongue.
Our sense of unity was strong
Until one day the tour boats come
To view the Isles of Hirta.

They landed in our island’s lee,
Brought influenza and TB,
And no resistance strength had we
Upon the Isles of Hirta. CHORUS

And so in city crime I fear
Nought but grief and poverty.
I wish to God that I was there
Back on the Isles of Hirta. CHORUS