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Stornoway. I was born in dismay.
I have brain-scars like scratches on an old LP
Rush, Rainbow, Ian Gillan, AC/DC
They all fall away to 'I'm telling on you' singsonged
In playgrounds that now seem haunted to me.
Look at it this way. I'm sorry.
You look at us, you listen to us
You think we're worthwhile
Because we've conquered the world
But I raise a toast to the
Local Man Who Ruins Everything.
(The Local Man Who Ruins Everything.)
Are we always destined to be frustrated?
Shall we always arrive there late?
Tell me God there's more to life.
Stornoway, I was always that way.
The girls pulled my hair, skip-rhymed away
Into something like today.
Memory's like a teacher, it never goes away.
I still believe Mac an t-Sronaich will kill me on a Sunday.
Look at it this way. I'm sorry.
Don't look at us, don't listen to us.
When they put a camera in my face
I said Caite bheil an Dalai Lama againn fhin?
And raised a toast instead to the
Local Man Who Ruins Everything.
(The Local Man Who Ruins Everything.)
Are we always destined to be frustrated?
Shall we always arrive there late?
Tell me God there's more to life.
Orange crush and cheeky chips.
The Country Dancing that brought us hip to hip
It's all gone now, we live for the kicks
Of a football team, of a national dream.
I feel lost in the losses of our relationships.
Look at it this way. I'm sorry.
You look at us, you listen to us
You think we're worthwhile
Because we've conquered the world
But I raise a toast to the
Local Man Who Ruins Everything.
(The Local Man Who Ruins Everything.)
Are we always destined to be frustrated?
Shall we always arrive there late?
Tell me God there's more to life.
The wet smell of trees and metallic beers
in the Castle Grounds those ruinous years
showed us failure's like nostalgia, just, insincere.
It happened there, it brings us here.
There is nothing but We're here. We're here.
Look at it this way. I'm sorry.
You look at us, you listen to us
You think we're worthwhile
Because we've conquered the world
But I raise a toast to the
Local Man Who Ruins Everything.
(The Local Man Who Ruins Everything.)
Are we always destined to be frustrated?
Shall we always arrive there late?
Tell me God there's more to life.
Are we always destined to be frustrated?
Shall we always arrive there late?
Tell me God there's more to life.
Where's OUR Dalai Lama?
Lyrics from 'Local Man Ruins Everything', copyright Kevin MacNeil, 2005. Performed by Kevin MacNeil (vocals) and William Campbell (vocals/guitar) and available as a limited edition etched 7" single on Fantastic Plastic Records © 2005 Campbell/MacNeil
 The Stornoway Way, by Kevin MacNeil is out now in hardback.
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