Mist on the moor at the break of the day Heather bends low where the cold winds play Tartan wrapped tight ‘round the blood in my veins Echoes of clans in the cry of the plains Dirk at my side and the broadsword near Whispers of home in the dawn so clear Smoke from the croft rising thin to the sky I breathe in the peat and I will not cry Pre-Chorus Hear the pipes calling over the glen Summoning hearts of the mountain men Chorus By the thistle and the stone I stand For the loch and the heathered land With iron and fire in my hand I fight for the blood of my clan If I fall, let the north wind say He held the line at the break of day Under a storm-dark sky so grand A Highland soul in a foreign land Verse 2 Red coats gather beyond the hill Drums like thunder, steady and shrill But we are the sons of the ancient hills Born to the frost and the winter chills Mother once sang by the hearth at night Songs of our fathers who chose to fight Her rosary beads and my father’s blade Two kinds of faith that a warrior made Pre-Chorus Hear the pipes crying fierce and high A lament if we live, a hymn if we die Chorus By the thistle and the stone I stand For the loch and the heathered land With iron and fire in my hand I fight for the blood of my clan If I fall, let the north wind say He held the line at the break of day Under a storm-dark sky so grand A Highland heart will never bend Bridge Claymore flashing in morning light Step by step into the fight Tartan flying, voices raised Through the smoke and the musket blaze For freedom’s breath and the old king’s name For honor more than gold or fame From Culloden’s shadow to fields unknown We carve our fate in flesh and bone Final Chorus By the thistle and the stone I stand For the loch and the heathered land With iron and fire in my hand I fight for the blood of my clan And if I fall on this crimson plain Lay me down in the Highland rain Where the pipes will play and the wild winds roam And the warrior’s heart comes home.
