This isn’t my moor
But it is my ringing in the ears
My vibrations of being almost at home
Yet a long way from love
Thinking it must be an external sound
I open the car door
To hear nothing but the sheep
And the sound of scrub smoke slowly rising
Brown, and green, and purple
Yes, yes, oh boy yes I’ll bless my love
For the purple heather
The brown, green, and beautiful purple heather
