They whisper down across the field,

The winds above Culloden–

They say the names of all the dead,

The highlanders and Englishmen

Who faced the day to prove their stead

To clan and king and countrymen–

Those brave souls at Culloden.

So clean and cold and silent are

The plains along Culloden–

They stretch beneath the morning star,

Beyond the graves, beyond the Nairn,

To peaceful glens and fields afar,

Even beyond the Clava Cairn–

Eternal is Culloden.

For every soul who’s dared to live

For love beyond Culloden–

Know every blade of grass can serve

To remind to all that they must earn

Their place before themselves they give

To love beyond Culloden.