A Blackbird Sings In Timor Street

A monday evening in Warrnambool in November in the Spring
On low branch of norfolk island pine a gold billed blackbird sing
In the grayness of the twilight just after sundown
It is quiet on monday evenings  in the old seaside town
The familar song of the blackbird used to have me close to tears
They were familiar songsters of my long gone younger years
But i have outgrown nostalgia and with me only memories remain
Of places that i once loved i may never see again
The schoolboy of the fifties is an ageing man today
On his  face time wrinkles his balding head is gray
He only has the memories of what used to be
Many young boys of the fifties and one of them is me
A blackbird sings in Timor Street in the gray after sunset
A Spring voice that i grew up with oh how could i forget.