Joy of Living by Ewan McColl Take me to some high place of heather, rock and ling Scatter my dust and ashes, feed me to the wind So that I may be part of all you see, the air you are breathing I'll be part of the curlew's cry and the soaring hawk The blue milkwort and the sundew hung with diamonds I'll be riding the gentle wind that blows through your hair Reminding you how we shared in the joy of living