Scotland, a place I call my own,
With rolling hills where wild winds have blown,
Misty mornings in a gentle embrace,
In every corner, I find a trace.
Blue blood runs through these ancient lands,
Proudly we stand with our clan’s strong hands,
In tartan wraps and with bagpipes tune,
Under the watch of a silver moon.
The thistle blooms where the brave hearts tread,
With stories of heroes long since fled,
Breathtaking scenery, a painter’s dream,
In every valley, a soft, silent scream.
No Scotland, no party, the saying rings clear,
For joy is a treasure when friends gather near,
With laughter and warmth, our spirits entwine,
In the heart of this land, where stars brightly shine.
The echoes of laughter on cobblestone streets,
In pubs filled with love, where friendships complete,
Each stranger a Neighbour, each smile a grace,
In the heart of this kingdom, I’ve found my place.
From Highland to Lowland, the beauty astounds,
In forests and glens where the spirit surrounds,
The history whispers in the winds that do wail,
In every stone’s story, a rustic tale.
Oh Scotland, my heart beats in rhythm with thee,
In every sunrise, I feel wild and free,
A land of deep roots, where my soul finds it way,
In this tapestry woven, I'll forever stay.
So raise up your glass to the hills and the skies,
To friendships that flourish and never say goodbyes,
For in this embrace, I am never alone,
In Scotland, the place I proudly call home.
