Fond Memories Of What Was

The song of the blackbird melodious and clear
A familiar Voice of the Spring of the year
It takes me to places from here far away
To a Northern Land in the prime of the May
In the gathering gloom just after sundown
In the high mountain wood overlooking the town
His kin birds were singing their farewell to day
Good memories do live on as some like to say
'Tis a fact of life and facts do not lie
That good memories do live in us till we die
A voice I have loved since I was a young boy
Listening to the song of the blackbird I still do enjoy
The past may be gone and time ticking on fast
But fond memories of what was in us seem to last.