Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing,
'Onward' the sailors cry!
Carry the lad that is born to be King,
Over the sea to Skye.

Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar,
Thunderclaps rend the air,
Baffled our foes stand on the shore,
Follow they will not dare.

Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing,
'Onward' the sailors cry!
Carry the lad that is born to be King,
Over the sea to Skye.

Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep,
Ocean's a royal bed;
Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep
Watch by your weary head.

Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing,
'Onward' the sailors cry!
Carry the lad that is born to be King,
Over the sea to Skye.

Many's the man fought on that day,
Well the claymore could wield,
When the night came, silently lay
Dead on Culloden's field.

Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing,
'Onward' the sailors cry!
Carry the lad that is born to be King,
Over the sea to Skye.

Burned are our homes, exile and death
Scatter the loyal men;
Yet, e'er the sword cool in the sheath,
Charlie will come again.

Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing,
'Onward' the sailors cry!
Carry the lad that is born to be King,
Over the sea to Skye.

Sing me a song of the lad that is gone,
Say, could that lad be I?
Merry of soul he sailed on a day
Over the sea to Skye.

Mull was astem, Rum on the port,
Eigg on the starboard bow:
Glory of youth glowed in his soul:
Where is that glory now?

Sing me a song of the lad that is gone,
Say, could that lad be I?
Merry of soul he sailed on a day
Over the sea to Skye.
    
Give me again all that was there,
Give me the sun that shone,
Give me the eyes, give me the soul,
Give me the lad that's gone.
     
Sing me a song of the lad that is gone,
Say, could that lad be I?
Merry of soul he sailed on a day
Over the sea to Skye.

Billow and breeze, islands and seas,
Mountains of rain and sun,
All that was good, all that was fair
All that was me is gone.

Sing me a song of the lad that is gone,
Say, could that lad be I?
Merry of soul he sailed on a day
Over the sea to Skye.