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.
