THE ISLANDS

by Ralph McTell


We do not fear the marshes, we've seen long ships before.
Men sailed here from the north land and hauled their boats ashore.
They brought with them their music, their language and their lore,
And burned their boats and stayed here on the islands.

It's midday in the Wintertime before the moon does pale.
The winter songs are very long, the storm, winds, and the gales.
The midnight sun's as distant as the calling of the whales,
'Til Spring returns again to paint the islands.

The grey seals and the otter, the salmon and the chub,
The land fowl and the sea trout, the free birds on the wind,
The shepherd and the farmer and all those in their care
Harmonise the music of the islands.