Dougie MacLean Follow

You?ll find me sitting at this table
with my fend Fin and my friend John
My friend Murdaney tells us stories
of things long gone lone gone
And we may take a glass together
the whisky makes it all so clear
It fires our dulled imaginations
and I feel so near
CHORUS
I feel so near to the howling of the wind
Feel so near to the crashing of the waves
Feel so near to the flowers in the field
Feel so near
The old man looks out to the island he says this
place is endless thin
There?s no real distance here to mention we might
all fall in all fall in
No distance to the spirits of the living no
distance to the spirits of the dead
And as he turned his eyes were shining and he
proudly said
CHORUS
So we build our tower constructions there to mark
our place in time
We justify our great destructions as on we climb on
we climb
Now the journey doesn?t seem to matter the
destination?s faded out
And gathering out along the headland I hear the
children shout children shout
CHORUS