Banks of Sicily

Farewell ye banks of Sicily

Fare ye well ye valleys and shores

There's no Scot will mourn the loss of you

All the poor soldiers are weary

The piper is drowsy, his pipe's laid away

He won't be around for his vino today

The sky o'er Messina is heavy and grey

And all the poor soldiers are weary

Farewell ye banks of Sicily

Fare ye well ye valleys and shores

There's no Scot will mourn the loss of you

All the poor soldiers are weary

The drummer is dressed up both handsome and tall

His drums and his gear are laid by the wall

He's braced himself up for his photo and all

To take with his Lola, his dearie

Then tune the pipes and sound the tenor drum

Gather your kit on one side of the wall

Then tune your pipes and sound your tenor drum

For the poor soldiers are weary

And fare ye well ye banks of Sicily

Fare ye well ye valleys and shores

There's no Scot will mourn the loss of you

All the poor soldiers are weary