Solitude

I have stood on Tom a'Mhoid and gazed down the long loch,
Watched the clouds race over Buachaille from that Big Red Cairn,
The waters thunder in Glen Tarff; in winter shift in ice and frost,
Falling past the old bothy down the turning stair.

And why do you wonder that I love this solitude,
And why do you wonder that I love this lonely place

Do you think that I am strong? Well, I break like all the others,
I stumble and fall.
Do you think that I am brave? Well, I shake like all the others:
I cry out and call.
But you know that standing here I get a little sense of freedom,
You know that standing here I get a little sense of scale,
You know that standing here I get a little sense
That we are bigger than it all.

There's an ache that grips your soul, looking out at the sunset over Suilven,
And the cold wind across the Atlantic sings a song to your heart,
Great Foinaven, defiant, casts a challenge to the foolish and the brave,
Who would climb his mighty shoulders and gaze out across the dark.

But you know that standing here I get a little sense of freedom,
You know that standing here I get a little sense of scale,
You know that standing here I get a little sense
That we are bigger than it all.

And I feel the wind ruffle my hair -
You know sometimes I miss you but up here the pain's not too bad,
And the faithful and the lonely will come,
To watch together this great display, this great display of hope.

But you know that standing here I get a little sense of freedom,
You know that standing here I get a little sense of scale,
You know that standing here I get a little sense
That we are bigger than it all.

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