My Heart's in the Highlands

I'm playing in a Celtic band called "Annie's Romance." With any luck, I'll get them on the Roses and Hope CD. All these pipes and whistles have put me in a Celtic mood. There is a deeply beloved song called "My Heart's In the HIghlands," written by Robert Burns in 1789. It's sung to many different tunes--I heard one this morning all on one note. (It was one of the less interesting interpretations.) The words open with "My heart's in the highlands. My heart is not here. My heart's in the highlands, a-chasin' the deer." My eleven-year-old daughter Caitlin brought this piece home from her children's choir and we were both so intrigued with that imagery that we let our creative spirits run wild.

My heart's in the highlands 
where breezes are pure.
My kidneys are wandrin'
out over the moor.


My heart's in the highlands
and raisin' a fuss,
last seen on the high road
a-chasin' a bus.


     So you take the high road
     and I'll take the lower.
     My heart's in the highlands--
     I miss it so sore.


My heart's in the highlands,
my ears are in Spain.
I'll never see all of
my pieces again.


My heart's in the highlands,
my teeth are in Rome.
I long to have all of
my body parts home.


     So you take the high road
     and I'll take the lower.
     My heart's in the highlands--
     I miss it so sore.

Unlike Robert Burns, I've never actually been to the highlands of Scotland. Two years before he penned his impulsive and passionate words, he finally went there and stayed a whole month.

Should I put in on the CD?