home in the heather: a song, set in scotland

i've wandered and wandered far over the bens
and wandered still further through cavernous glens
because i was told with enough fortitude
that you would find me
or i might find you.
but i've waded through rivers and drunk from the ponds,
i've hunted with wolves and i've sifted through loam
for my food and my bed -
and then came the rain, that soaked me right through
till the sun blazed again.
once my skin shone as pale as a moon or a rose -
now i'm burnt to the marrow, i am red to the bone.
and all for a promise i could not achieve,
you'd no power to keep, they'd no right to give.
these twenty-five years of growing steadily wild,
i know i should've spent some as a child,
but i had no borders, no frame to stand in -
no walls to define - no skin determined.
now i hide and i hedge. i shift and i skulk.
when hungry, i forage. when tired, i drop
right where i am.

take this heather off,
this heather off of my lap.
i'm tired of trying to find a softer way through the wilderness.
take this heather off,
this heather off of my lap.
i'm tired of trying to find a softer way through the wilderness.
oh, all of my loneliness is just waiting for you.
all of my waiting's merely loneliness
without you.