I picture the green hills,
The lovely country roads,
That lead to one beloved house,
My heart will always know.
They're there every morning when I open my eyes,
And at night whilst I lay in bed,
Beautiful images of those endless fields,
And hay bales in my head.
Though there the skies are often clouded and gray,
They are prettier than these clear and blue,
The heather grows upon the mountainside,
The burns run clear and in lovely hues.
Those dear dogs chase after the sheep,
Herding them back to the farm,
Where granny is napping by the fire,
And my cousins messing around in the barn.
Though this new land,
Is by the sea blue and clean,
There is no place better than my homeland,
With it's bonnie border scenes.
Down at the border near Peebleshire town,
Lie the hills in my heart for miles on end,
Looking now at my picture frame,
It's as if I'm there with the sunset upon them.
Yes, though every land is fair,
And has it's beautiful scenes to,
I will always sing and dream of those,
The hills of my homeland and their heroes brave and true.
