The heather will fade and the bracken will die Streams will run cold and clear And the small birds will be going, and it's then you will be knowing That the terror time is near. Whaur will ye gan an' whaur will ye bide Noo that the work's a' done And the fairmer disnae need ye, and the cooncils winnae he ed ye And the terror time is come? The woods give no shelter and the trees they are bare Snow is falling all around And the children they are crying, for the bed on which they're lying
Is frozen to the ground. When you need the warmth of your own human kind You move near a town and then The sight o' you's offending, an' the police they soon are sending An' you're on the road again. Whaur will ye gan an' whaur will ye bide Noo that the work's a' done And the fairmer disnae need ye, and the cooncils winnae heed ye And the terror time is come?