Fifteen hundred years or more this awesome, magic ring
The thirteen stone disciples guarding Hebridean Isles
Our shadows dance in moonlight, Hogmanay and Highland Fling
The sun bowed down and sets again, yet stays here for a while.
The ebb and flow of life is here, for when you wonder why
That planets were the focus once “a mystical suggestion”
The Chamber Tomb, a central stone to guide your compass by
With guards in rows of Lewis rock ignoring every question
For sure, there once were druids here, who prayed and often preyed
Devotion is a drug to drink and savour skye juice with
MacLeods for generations lived, and worshipped here and strayed
To pastures new, to conquer, and a new impression give.
Before them, all those Nicholsons, who came and made this home
And afterwards, Clan Mackenzie up to Stornoway gave chase,
And ever season, every year some changes froth and foam
Yet always and forever here, these Standing Stones in place.
An ordered life, and lives to rule, and rules to keep peace in
It stands to every reason that the crops and tides obey
So wordship and we know that every winter has its Kin
And answers come when stones are struck: a sun or moon cause-way.