by Alan William McCulloch Amateur


by Alan William McCulloch | Amateur


I work the land and harvest, and my name is William Glass

And the landlord hails from London not Belfast

In the year of 1845, all across the Emerald Isle

The potato crop is ravaged by the blight

And the people die in thousands, as the famine takes its hold

Many find a path to America and other corners of the globe

And I must also travel, just across the Irish sea

To the land that I’ll call home now

Hope that Scotia welcomes me

And I flee with many others, there to Troon on Ayrshire coast

With my body starved and fragile, like a ghost

I find lodging with a family and McCulloch be their name

Took that name to be the son they’d sought to gain

And the people they died in their thousands, many more have broken free

Many old folk and the young ones, paid the price for other’s greed

And I was bound to travel, just across the Irish sea

Feel this land is my inheritance, for this Scotia’s welcomed me

And to all the lost ex patriots, o’er centuries have had to flee

From one coast to another, they have journeyed to be free

Their inheritance and fortune lay across that lonely sea

To a new hope and beginning, just like me

And I was bound to travel, just across the Irish sea

To the land that I call home now, for that Scotia’s welcomed me

My Scotia’s welcomed me

Having read the Roots Tech web pages and realising how you connect families, I'd like to withdraw my earlier song submission "No Fault in Your Innocence" and replace it with this song "Inheritance". This song comes from a true family history episode, when my 6th back great grandfather William Glass, left N. Ireland during the 1845 potato famine and landed in Troon, where he was taken in by a family called McCulloch. He took their surname as they wanted to raise a son and the families he raised were thereafter McCullochs.
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