River Garnock
Turn ye, turn ye hands of time
Like a clock about to chime
Running through a hundred towns
Claiming lives and rings and crowns
Giving life to work and mills
With your spout deep in the hills
Jacob´s Well I could not find
My elders left no trace, no sign
Then in rage you burst your banks
People curse you, none give thanks
Wounded like an open knife
Knox´s Mill you still give life