Southlands - The Stanfields

I was born in this land

And I run among the barley

I remember those times like yesterday

I knew nothing of me father

Just the tales told by me mother

As we slept by the horses in the hay

In the Southlands she’d say

They take rest in their goose beds

And loll away on the cold winter nights

But don’t be leavin' nor reavin'

Like a borderless heathen

Like your daddy

Who took the wrong way home

With the wind at our backs

We took our leave after the harvest

13 men and their charges rode away

We forged through the rains

Hit like hammers upon the anvil

But returned only few upon the day

In the Southlands we paid

With our fair share of blood upon

Our saddles — and a lifetime of tears

I was thieving — I was reavin'

Like a borderless heathen

Like my daddy

I took the wrong way home

Ghost and kin

Come to me at every hour

Somewhere out there in the mist

Lay a child who never will run among the barley

Run among the barley

Ghost and kin

Come to me at every hour

Somewhere out there in the mist

Lay a child who never will run among the barley

Run among the barley

Ghost and kin

Come to me at every hour — every day

And they won’t let me forget

About a child who never will run among the barley

(Run among the barley)

Run among the barley

(Run among the barley)

Run among the barley

Run among the barley