Lay me down yonder the shores of Lock-Ness,
Were the heather grows over the ground,
Its grace is of heaven with mountains up high,
You’re one with the gods on peaks in the sky.
With views of beauty, lock as fare as I see,
My ancestry place, is where I should be,
Feelings from past are felt in the rock,
From the old Shepard hand tending his flocks.
My forefathers birth place, it’s where he come from,
With bag pipes all blowing, Scotts signing songs,
Out from the mountains to the valley beyond,
In the valley they parted the clan was all gone.
So if you should visit Lock-Ness some day,
Take a look at the place where I’m going to lay,
Up in the mountains with views of old Ness,
Lay me down here when I finally rest.