pandemo (pandemo) wrote,
pandemo
pandemo

Last Trip Home



The lyrics to this song were written and sung by Davey Steele of the Battlefield Band (a Scottish group that has been in existence since 1969) and always makes me cry. He died soon after it was written, but I cried over it BEFORE I knew that.

I just bought a second CD with the same song on it on line, the original recording of it Leaving Fridays Harbor (1999) because an email to the band's manager elicited the information that the liner notes contain the lyrics. I can hardly wait for it to arrive!

In the mean time, I'm storing my best attempt to decode them here:
(Wherever I can't tell for sure what the word(s) are, I used parenthesis, with the last one listed being what I've taken to carry the meaning, even if the words don't quite fit the sounds... I'm learning a lot of Scottish dialect...)

(Edited to published version 6/28/05)

Last Trip Home

A've ay worked on farms an' fae start, the *muckle horses won ma heart,
Wi' (their) big broad backs, they proudly stand; the uncrowned kings o a' the land;
An' yet for a' their power and strength, they're as gentle as a summer's wind.

(Chorus)
So steady boys, walk on; oor work is nearly done;
No more we'll till or plough the fields; the horses' day is gone;
An' this will be oor last trip home; so steady boys, walk on.

(Now) you'll hear men sing their songs of praise, of Arab stallions in a race,
Or Hunters that fly wi' the hounds, to chase the fox and run him down;
But none o' them compare, I vow, tae a workin' pair that pulls a plough.

So steady boys, walk on; oor work is nearly done;
No more we'll till or plough the fields; the horses' day is gone;
An' this will be oor last trip home; so steady boys, walk on.

(An') aw the years I've plied my trade; an' aw the fields we've ploughed and laid;
I never thought I'd see the time when a Clydesdale's work wid ever end;
But progress runs its driven course; noo tractors ha'e replaced ma horse.

So steady boys, walk on; oor work is nearly done;
No more we'll till or plough the fields; the horses' day is gone;
An' this will be oor last trip home; so steady boys, walk on.

As we head back, our friends have lined the road tae see us one last time;
(But) not one o' them will want tae miss, the chance tae see us pass like this;
They'll say they saw in years tae come, the muckle horses' last trip home.

So steady boys, walk on; oor work is nearly done;
No more we'll till or plough the fields; the horses' day is gone;
An' this will be oor last trip home; so steady boys, walk on.
So steady boys, walk on; oor work is nearly done;
No more we'll till or plough the fields; the horses' day is gone;
An' this will be oor last trip home; so steady boys, walk on.
So steady boys, walk on.

(*My very American dictionary lists muckle as a variant of mickle which it translates as much. As an English (American) teacher, that offends me. Muckle is used as an adjective, but defined with an adverb...
Tags: lyrics
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