Dark Island - Mike Oldfield

Away to the westward

I’m longing to be,

Where the beauties of heaven

Unfold by the sea;

Where the sweet purple heather blooms

Fragrant and free

On a hilltop high above

The Dark Island

So gentle the sea breeze,

That ripples the bay,

Where the stream joins the ocean,

And young children play;

On the strand of pure silver,

I’ll welcome each day,

And I’ll roam for every more,

The Dark Island

True gem of the Herbrides,

Bathed in the light,

Of the mid-summer dawning,

That follows the night;

How I yearn for the cries,

Of the seagulls in flight,

As they circle above

The Dark Island