Highlands

Well, my heart's in the Highlands, gentle and fair,

Honeysuckle blooming in the wild-wood air,

Bluebells blazing where the Aberdeen waters flow.

Well, my heart's in the Highlands, I'm gonna go there when I feel good enough to go.

Windows were shaking all night in my dreams,

Everything was exactly the way that it seems.

Woke up this morning and I looked at the same old page,

Same old rat race, life in the same old cage.

I don't want nothing from anyone, ain't that much to take,

Wouldn't know the difference between a real blonde and a fake.

Feel like a prisoner in a world of mystery,

I wish someone'd come and push back the clock for me.

Well, my heart's in the Highlands wherever I roam,

That's where I'll be when I get called home.

The wind, it whispers to the buckeye trees in rhyme,

Well, my heart's in the Highlands, I can only get there one step at a time.

I'm listening to Neil Young, I gotta turn up the sound,

Someone's always yelling, "Turn it down!"

Feel like I'm drifting, drifting from scene to scene,

I'm wondering what in the devil could it all possibly mean.

Insanity is smashing up against my soul,

You can say I was on anything but a roll.

If I had a conscience, well, I just might blow my top.

What would I do with it anyway? Maybe take it to the pawn shop.

My heart's in the Highlands at the break of dawn

By the beautiful lake of the Black Swan,

Big, white clouds like chariots that swing down low.

Well, my heart's in the Highlands, only place left to go.

I'm in Boston town in some restaurant,

I got no idea what I want –

Or maybe I do, but I'm just really not sure.

Waitress comes over, nobody in the place but me and her.

Well, it must be a holiday, there's nobody around,

She studies me closely as I sit down.

She got a pretty face and long, white, shiny legs.

I say, "Tell me what I want." She say, "You probably want hard-boiled eggs."

I say, "That's right, bring me some."

Shes says, "We ain't got any, you picked the wrong time to come."

Then she says, "I know you're an artist. Draw a picture of me."

I said, "I would if I could, but I don't do sketches from memory."

Well, she's there, she says, "I'm right here in front of you – or haven't you looked?"

I say, "Alright, I know, but I don't have my drawing book."

She gives me a napkin, she say, "You can do it on that."

I say, "Yes, I could, but I don't know where my pencil is at."

She pulls one out from behind her ear,

She says, "Alright, now, go ahead, draw me, I'm staying right here."

I make a few lines and I show it for her to see.

Well, she takes the napkin and throws it back and says, "That don't look a thing like me."

I said, "Oh, kind miss, it most certainly does."

She say, "You must be joking." I said, "I wish I was."

Then, she says, "You don't read women authors, do you?" At least that's what I think I hear her say.

Well, I say, "How would you know and what would it matter anyway?"

Well, she says, "You just don't seem,like you do." I said, "You're way wrong."

She says, "Which ones have you read then?" I say, "I've read Erica Jong."

She goes away for a minute and I slide out outta my chair,

I step outside back to the busy street, but nobody's going anywhere.

Well, my heart's in the Highlands with the horses and hounds,

Way up in the border country far from the towns,

With the twang of the arrow and the snap of the bow.

My heart's in the Highlands, can't see any other way to go.

Every day is the same thing, out the door,

Feel further away than ever before.

Some things in life, it just gets too late to learn.

Well, I'm lost somewhere, I must've made a few bad turns.

I see people in the park forgetting their troubles and woes,

They're drinking and dancing, wearing bright-colored clothes,

All the young men with the young women looking so good.

Well, I'd trade places with any of 'em in a minute if I could.

I'm crossing the street to get away from a mangy dog,

Talking to myself in a monologue.

I think what I need might be a full-length leather coat.

Somebody just asked me if I've registered to vote.

The sun is beginning to shine on me,

But it's not like the sun that used to be.

The party's over and there's less and less to say,

I got new eyes, everything looks far away.

Well, my heart's in the Highlands at the break of day,

Over the hills and far away,

There's a way to get there and I'll figure it out somehow,

But I'm already there in my mind and that's good enough for now.