Green Hills Of Tyrol

Intro: There was a soldier, a Scottish soldier, who wandered far away and soldiered far away. There was none bolder, with good broad shoulders, he fought in many a fray, and fought and won. He's seen the glory, he's told the story, of battles glorious, and deeds victorious, But now he's sighing, his heart is crying, to leave those green fields of Tyrol. Because those green fields are not high-land hills, or the island hills, they're not my land's hills, And fair as these green foreign hills may be, they are not the hills of home. And now this soldier, this Scottish soldier, who wandered far away and soldiered far away, Sees leaves are falling and death is calling, and he will fade away, on that dark land. He called his piper, his trusty piper, and bade him sound a lay, a pi-broach sad to play, Upon a hillside a Scottish hillside, not on those green hills, of Tyrol. Because those green fields are not high-land hills, or the island hills, they're not my land's hills, And fair as these, green foreign hills may be, they are not the hills of home. And now this soldier, this Scottish soldier, who wanders far no more and soldiers far no more, Now on a hillside, a Scottish hillside, you'll see a piper play, this soldier home. He's seen the glory, he's told the story, of battles, glorious and deeds victorious, But he will cease now, he is at peace now, far from these green, hills of Tyrol. Because those green fields are not high-land hills, or the island hills, they're not my land's hills, And fair as these, green foreign hills may be, they are not the hills of home.