On the dark side of the
beinn,
there stands a lonely cairn,
and its secret is almost lost and gone.
For down in the glen,
there fought two thousand men,
and the stones are there to mark their passing on,
and the stones are there to mark their passing on.
McLean he marched along,
and he sang the battle song,
to lift the spirits of his highland clan.
At the side of the glen,
t'was there he built the cairn,
and a stone was laid by each and every man,
and a stone was laid by each and every man.
The bloody battle long,
left many maimed and gone,
their blood filled the loch and filled the burn.
And then without a sound,
they left the battle ground,
and they wandered back home to their wives and bairns,
and they wandered back home to their wives and bairns.
As each clansman passed the cairn,
he lifted up a stone,
one for each who made it to the high glenside.
And still to this day,
that cairn still marks the way,
in memory of those who fought and died,
in memory of those who fought and died.