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They came down to the merchant city |
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Where the privileged lie and poverty kills |
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They came a long road of pain and pity |
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And where's the sense for the highland girls? |
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Dolina like a little child |
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Dolina with these dreams to fill |
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Dolina hill run and wild |
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Where's the sense for a highland girl? |
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The factory's hard it takes more and more |
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It's no exchange for the curlew's song |
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Or the buzzard's cry as it soars and soars |
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Or your family's arms when it all feels wrong |
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She could have met a fine young soldier |
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She could have taken the rich man's hand |
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She could have let the devil hold her |
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She could have left for some distant land |
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But she came down to a garden valley |
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To tend the earth with a country man |
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They never held more than they could carry |
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And their children grew grew to understand |
