An Irrepressible Thing

I'm happy where I am the migrant may say
And I never think of my Hometown far away
But with a few beers in a song of the Homeland he does sing
Nostalgia it is an irrepressible thing
In truth his thoughts often go to the Hometown
And to the old streets he often did walk up and down
When he was a young man many Seasons ago
The years go so quickly and time is our foe
An ageing grandfather his hair silver gray
The migrant he has known a far better day
In a two bedroom brick home he lives with his ageing wife
And he feels contented with his lot in life
But he is in denial when you hear him say
That he never thinks of his Hometown far away.