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I look back
thro’ the long lost years,
To the place where I knew joy and tears,
A village set close to the edge of the sea,
Where I knew there was always a welcome for me,
It’s the home where I spent my childhood days,
And splodged in the sea that curled round the bays,
Where the warm sand trickled beneath my feet,
And the smell of the seaweed was strong and sweet,
Where the music I heard, was a seagull’s call,
As the waves lashed in fury, beneath the sea wall,
And the fishermen turned out to fasten their boats,
Like ghosts in the night, in their oilskin coats,
But soon the village will have to die,
Neglected, forgotten, outworn is the cry,
And where only rubble and quietness reign,
It will seem that a whole way of life was in vain,
But for me, an exile for many a year,
It will always be home, a place I hold dear,
And I shall return to the sound of the sea,
The one thing this world cannot take from me.
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