The Laird - Mountain

Pappalardi-Collins)

The Laird is arriving

He ran to the east

He stood in the courthouse

Pleading his case

His crime was a passion

An aching for peace

And he’s not alone

And he’s not alone

And he’s not alone

And he’s not alone

Let my people go His soul is on paper

Freshly changed

And white men they keep him

Oh and not changing

And he’s not around, yeah

And he’s not around

Hes not around

Hes not around, yeah

Let my people go