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Sung by Andy Stewart

There was a soldier, a Scottish soldier,
Who wandered far away, and soldiered far away;
There was none bolder, with good broad shoulders,
He fought in mony-a fray and fought and won;
He's seen the glory, he's told the story
Of battles glorious, and deeds victorious,
But now he's sighing, his heart is crying
To leave those green hills of Tyrol.

Because those green hills are not highland hills,
Or the island hills they're not my land's hills,
As fair as these green foreign hills may be,
They are not the hills of home.

And now this soldier, this Scottish soldier,
Who wandered far away, and soldiered far away,
Sees leaves are falling, and death is calling,
And he will fade away, in that far land;
He called his piper, his trusty piper,
And bade him sound away, a pibroch sad to play
Upon a hillside, but Scottish hillside,
Not on these green hills of Tyrol.

Because those green hills are not highland hills,
Or the island hills they're not my land's hills,
As fair as these green foreign hills may be,
They are not the hills of home.

And now this soldier, this Scottish soldier,
Who wanders far no more, and soldiers far no more,
And on a hillside, a Scottish hillside,
You'll see a piper play this soldier home;
He's seen the glory, he's told the story
Of battles glorious and deeds victorious,
But he will cease now, he is at peace now,
Far from those green hills of Tyrol

Because those green hills are not highland hills,
Or the island hills they're not my land's hills,
As fair as these green foreign hills may be,
They are not the hills of home.

Because those green hills are not highland hills,
Or the island hills they're not my land's hills,
As fair as these green foreign hills may be,
They are not the hills of home.