Here's another:

THE DARK ISLAND
words by Alan Bell, music by Ian Maclachlan

On my father's own land I was born to be free
I was born to the island, the boats and the sea
To work and to live as we always have done
But I've no son to follow, the young ones have gone

Chorus:
Fare thee well, fare thee well
My island, my home
It's away o'er the ocean now I must roam
To find a new land and learn the new ways
But I hope to return in the future one day

I've known the bad ways of the wild roaring surf
And I've felt the salt rain as I cut the peat turf
And I've mended the nets in the evening's soft glow
Now these are my memories, wherever I go
CHORUS

The homes are all empty, no fires in the hearth
And the nettles grow tall all along the old lanes
Where as children we laughed and played our rough games
Now the children have grown up, the island has changed
CHORUS

The school door is closed, and the blackboard is bare
The old floor is dusty, there's no one to care
But there we have laughed and danced many a night through
Now the old ways have ended, we must learn the new
CHORUS

The fishing is finished, and sheep graze the land
Where my kinsfolk once lived there is only the sound
Of the wind and the waves and the wild sea-birds' cry
Now my heart aches with sadness, I must say goodbye.
CHORUS


Transcribed by ear from the CD, Alan Bell: The Definitive Collection