'Being brought up on the Ayrshire coast I can remember many days watching
the herring boats fishing on the Firth of Clyde. A fine song about a once great Scottish
industry.'
I can see the boats at Mallaig from Lewis and the Clyde
Low down in the water to the harbour with the tide
I can see 'The Horse' and Sammy from the
'Stormdrift' at the dawn
With a hundred cran of herring
But the fishing days are gone
chorus:
They ploughed the sea and they reaped the silver corn
There were hard days and bitter ways to greet the frosty dawn
They ploughed the sea and they reaped the silver corn
They made hard lives and bitter wives
But the fishing days are gone
As a boy I used to watch them as they fished the Arran shore
On calm and peaceful summer nights then next day
home once more
And when winter winds were howling and the
world lay still and warm
They were out there on the water but the fishing days are gone
Now the big ships sweep the ocean from Shetland down to Spain
The drifter and the ring net we will never see again
The smoking sheds lie empty and the 'Stormdrift’s'
days are done
The herring ships are over
And the fishing days are gone