歌词
Ah, for the glens are lyin' bare
And the wee bit farm deserted
And the woods o'
Germany Grows in rows round the broken-hearted
Many hae gane tae
Americay Ye burnt their hames and garred them wander
For I woulda gane wi' th'de'il himsel'
As bide and hour wi' the cruel
Gillanders
Black is the wood on the ruffian-swa's braw
But blacker still is your heart,
Victoria Sent your men untae our glen
You'll need the good
Lord lookin' o'er ya
Ah, for the glens are lyin' bare
And the wee bit farm deserted
And the woods o'
Germany Grows in row round the broken-hearted