Sing me a song of a lad that is gone Say, could that lad be I? Merry of soul, he sailed on a day Over the sea to Skye Mull was astern, rum to the port Egg on the starboard bow Glory of youth glowed in his soul Where is that glory now? Speed, bonny boat, like a bird on a wing Onward the sailors cry Carry the lad that's born to be king Over the sea to Skye
