Mike Oldfield
Mike Oldfield
Mike Oldfield
Mike Oldfield
Mike Oldfield
Mike Oldfield
Mike Oldfield & Alan Rickman
Mike Oldfield
Mike Oldfield
Mike Oldfield
Mike Oldfield
Mike Oldfield
Mike Oldfield
Mike Oldfield
Away to the westward
I'm longing to be
Where the beauties of heaven
Unfold by the sea;
Where the sweet purple heather blooms
Fragrant and free
On a hilltop high above
The Dark Island
So gentle the sea breeze
That ripples the bay
Where the stream joins the ocean
And young children play;
On the strand of pure silver
I'll welcome each day
And I'll roam for every more
The Dark Island
True gem of the Herbrides
Bathed in the light
Of the mid-summer dawning
That follows the night;
How I yearn for the cries
Of the seagulls in flight
As they circle above
The Dark Island