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Generations of Change - Cilla Fisher/Artie Trezise
My faither was a baillie on a wee fairm at caiplie
And he worked on the land a' the days o' his life
By the time he made second he said he reckoned
He'd ploughed nearly half o' the East neuk o' fife
He fee'd on at randerston crawhill and clephinton
Cambo carnbee kilrennie hill
At kingsbarns he married at boarhills he's buried
Man if he'd lived he'd be ploughing there still
For those days were his days those ways were his ways
To follow the plough while his back was still strong
But those days are past and the time's come at last
For the weakness of age to make way for the young
I wasnae for ploughing to the sea I was going
To follow the fish and the fisherman's ways
In rain hail and sunshine I watched the lang runline
Nae man mair contented his whale working day
I've lang lined the fladden ground the dutch and the dogger bank
Pulled the big fish from the deep devil's hole
I've side trawled off shetland the faroes and iceland
In weather much worse than a body could thole
For those days were my days those ways were my ways
To follow the fish while my back was still strong
But those days are past and the time's come at last
For the weakness of age to make way for the young
My sons they have grown and away they have gone
To search for black oil in the far northern sea
Like oilmen they walk like texans they talk
Nay there's no' much in common between my sons and me
They've rough rigged on josephine forties and ninian
Claymore dunlin fisher and awk
They've made fortunes for sure for in one trip ashore
They spend more than I earned in a whole season's work
For this day is their day this way is their way
To ride the rough rigs while their backs are still strong
But this day will pass and the time come at last
For the weakness of age to make way for the young
My grandsons are growing to school now they're going
But the lang weeks o' summer they spend here wi' me
We walk through the warm days we talk of the old ways
The cornfield the codfish the land and the sea
We walk through the fields my father once tilled
Talk wi' the old men who once sailed wi' me
Man it's been awfu' guid I showed them all I could
O' the past and the present what their future might be
For tomorrow is their day what will be their way
What will they make of their land sea and sky
Man I've seen awfu' change still it seems very strange
To look at the world through a young laddie's eyes
