THE WESTERN ISLES
True gem of the Hebrides, bathed in the light Of the midsummer dawning that follows the night How I yearn for the cries of the seagulls in flight. As they circle high above the Dark Island
True gem of the Hebrides, bathed in the light Of the midsummer dawning that follows the night How I yearn for the cries of the seagulls in flight. As they circle high above the Dark Island