Barley (in memory of Isobel Rodger Robertson)

The wind that shakes the barley will not shake me

The wind that shakes the barley won’t won’t shake me

As my grandma told me this I sew though that I see

The fire that takes the kindling will not take me

The fire that takes the kindling it won’t won’t take me

As my grandma told me this I sew though that I see

The rain that floods the valley will not drown me

The rain that floods the valley won’t won’t drown me

As my grandma told me this I sew though that I see

The hawk that stoops the sparrow will not strike me

The hawk that stoops the sparrow it won’t won’t strike me

As my grandma told me this I sew though that I see

The dark before the dawn breaks will not bind me

The dark before the dawn breaks it won’t won’t bind me

As my grandma told this I sew though that I see

The wind that shakes the barley will not shake me

The wind that shakes the barley no it won’t won’t shake me

As my grandma told me this I sew though that I see