Текст песни: Generations of Change + перевод

My father was a baillie from a wee farm at Caiplie

He worked on the land all the days of his life

By the time he made second, he aye said he reckoned

he’d ploughed near on half of the east nuke of Fife.

He worked on at Randerston, Crawhill and Clephinton

Cambo and Carnbee and Big Rennyhill

At Kingsbarns he married, at Boarhills he’s buried

But man, had he lived, he’d be ploughing on still

For those days were his days, those ways were his ways

To follow the plough while his back was still strong

But those days are past and the time came at last

For the weakness of age to make way for the young

I was nae for ploughing, to the sea I was going

To follow the fish and the fisherman’s ways

In rain, hail and sunshine I watched the long runline

No man mere contented his whale working day

I’ve lang lined the Fladden Ground, the Dutch and the Dogger Bank

Pulled the big fish from the deep Devil’s Hole

I’ve side trawled off Shetland, the Faroes and Iceland

In weather much worse than a body could thole

For that day was my day, that way was my way

To follow the fish while my back was still strong

But that day is past and the time came at last

For the weakness of age to make way for the young

My sons they have grown and away they have gone

To search for black oil in the far northern sea

Like oilmen they walk, and like yankees they talk

There’s not much in common between my sons and me

They’ve rough-rigged on Josephine, Forties and Ninian

Claymore and Dunlin and Fisher and Awk

They’ve made fortunes for sure, for in one trip ashore

They spend more than I earned in a whole season’s work

For this day is their day, this way is their way

To ride the rough rigs while their backs are still strong

But this day will pass and the time come at last

For the weakness of age to make way for the young

My grandsons are growing, to the school they soon be goin'

But the lang weeks of summer they spend here with me

We walk through the warm days, we talk of the old ways

The cornfield, the codfish, the land and the sea

We walk through the fields that my father once tilled

Talk with the old men who once sailed with me

Man, it’s been awfully good, I showed them all I could

Of the past and the present, what their future might be

For the morn will be their day, what will be their way

What will they make of their land, sea and sky

Man, I’ve seen awfu' change, still it seems very strange

To look at my world through a young laddie’s eyes

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