John Fyfe ( 1997 )
My hands touch the wood and the tiles on the stair
not everythings changed since the family lived there
I hear the ghost of a tram car bell
this place holds tales it longs to tell....
Born 'cross the Clyde, one of Anderston's gains
an infant of Glasgow with Skye in your veins
guided by fate down the quayside wall
you raise your sail, you heed the call
Where are you sailin' today, John Fyfe
which is the star that looks after my life
your time and mine moving closer each day
when are we coming home ?
Your hands grip the letter, the fatal words form
adrift on the ocean, the news like a storm
the last unconditional love has gone
so what is this that drives you on ?
I wish we could meet tho' they say it's too late
but I've known your daughters & sons
their past as important as their own lives
Mam & Pap, the shining ones
Where are you sailin' today, John Fyfe ?