If you never leave the highlands like you're drowning under rain and your sadness tastes like whiskey and my body breathes the same and I'll drain my wisdom empty just to feel that space again
but you know nothing is silent and my secret is my silence my secret is my silence and my silence is in vain
I'm sick of living in these buildings that were built from blood and rain and from the warm side of the window the views always look the same but your face it held the stories full of dreams it can contain
but you know nothing is silent and my secret is my silence my secret is my silence and my silence is in vain
and you held on to a country from the cail yard to the grave and you spoke in quickly written verses hidden in your gaelic name to approach land without a harbour to find your way home you approach land without a harbour to find your way home
but you know nothing is silent and my secret is my silence my secret is my silence and my silence is in vain