I met my people in a land far away,
Just when I thought I had gone astray.
They brought me back from mediocrity
and showed me our nation’s capital city.
It felt like a dream, I finally belonged,
I finally found the people for whom I longed.
Why must all good things come to an end,
Just when I found my people, a true friend.
Saying goodbye to something so beautiful,
Isn’t as easy as collecting highland wool,
We will meet again, I know we will,
But till then life is heading downhill.
Stuck in this clay dome I cry out in pain,
I can’t take it anymore, I pray for rain.
but I find solace in the thought that one day
I will meet my people again, in a land far away.
