Drift

Bill Wilkie / Andy Shanks

Fund this wrack oot on the beach ae day

I kertit it back hame

Well since that day, I have tae say

life's niver been the same.

Fit journey his it trevelled

Tae here frae distant lands

Just floating thru the wind and waves

Tae end up in my hands.

Chorus

Noo abody his a hobby

And mine micht seem richt daft

There’s piles o wid ootside ma shed

I’ll maybes bigg a raft.

And as I sit an look at it

An shape it with my knife

The journey it hiz been on

Its affa like my life.

Sine it hiz tholed its ups and doons

Tae reach this Johnner beach

And fate it will, in shell and sand,

Pick oot the yin ye reach.

Chorus

Noo abody his a hobby

And mine micht seem richt daft

There’s piles o wid ootside ma shed

I’ll maybes bigg a raft.

And far ye rest and stow yir gear

It’s no oor choice at a’

Ye drift afore the tide o life

Till the harbour heron’s ca’.

Sae neebour, when my journey ends,

Nae matter bad nor guid,

I hope some biddy picks me up

Just like this lump o wood.