Mist upon the hill can remember murder,
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Mist upon the hill that once flowed with blood,
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Helped to cover up an approaching army,
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Hid the killing lust in the eyes of men.
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Sitting by the fire was a sentry sleeping,
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Rolled up in their beds were children that play,
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Unsuspecting what was to fall upon them,
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None of them would see the dawn next day.
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Bloody were the blades that fell on children,
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Hate the blinding light tried to kill a name,
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The mountains only know all the souls that died there,
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Glen Coe from that day can recall the shame.
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The quiet of the night never gave them warning,
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The silence of the hills wouldn't let them know,
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They'd never rise again on a mist filled morning,
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Never see the sunrise above Glen Coe.
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-----------------
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1692 (Glen Coe Massacre)
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| Nazareth |
