[00:24.64]Cold the wind on the moors blow
[00:31.37]Warm the enemy's fire glows
[00:37.59]Black the harvest of Culloden
[00:43.65]Pain and fear and death grow
[00:51.60]The love of our prince drove us on to Drumossie
[00:58.05]But in scarcely the time that it takes me to tell
[01:04.28]The flower of our country lay scorched by an army
[01:10.24]As ruthless and red as the embers of hell
[01:17.32]Cold the wind on the moors blow
[01:23.38]Warm the enemy's fire glows
[01:30.01]Black the harvest of Culloden
[01:35.78]Pain and fear and death grow
[02:28.19]Red Campbell and fox did the work of the English
[02:34.31]MacDonald in anger did no work at all
[02:40.52]With musket and cannon against honor and courage
[02:46.94]The invader's men stood while our clansmen did fall
[02:53.52]Cold the wind on the moors blow
[02:59.74]Warm the enemy's fire glows
[03:05.91]Black the harvest of Culloden
[03:12.17]Pain and fear and death grow
[04:48.35]Now mothers and children are left to their weeping
[04:54.92]With only the memory of fathers and the son
[05:01.23]Turned out of their homes to make shelter for strangers
[05:07.49]The blackest of hours on this land has begun
[05:13.94]Cold the wind on the moors blow
[05:20.45]Warm the enemy's fire glows
[05:26.76]Black the harvest of Culloden
[05:32.84]Pain and fear and death grow

Cold the wind on the moors blow
Warm the enemy's fire glows
Black the harvest of Culloden
Pain and fear and death grow
The love of our prince drove us on to Drumossie
But in scarcely the time that it takes me to tell
The flower of our country lay scorched by an army
As ruthless and red as the embers of hell
Cold the wind on the moors blow
Warm the enemy's fire glows
Black the harvest of Culloden
Pain and fear and death grow
Red Campbell and fox did the work of the English
MacDonald in anger did no work at all
With musket and cannon against honor and courage
The invader's men stood while our clansmen did fall
Cold the wind on the moors blow
Warm the enemy's fire glows
Black the harvest of Culloden
Pain and fear and death grow
Now mothers and children are left to their weeping
With only the memory of fathers and the son
Turned out of their homes to make shelter for strangers
The blackest of hours on this land has begun
Cold the wind on the moors blow
Warm the enemy's fire glows
Black the harvest of Culloden
Pain and fear and death grow