It Lives In My Head

It lives in my head as an unforgettable song
Wherever i go to my past with me comes along
And like most other migrants old memories in me does last
The gift of memory keeps us linked to the past
In my visualizations i often see Finnow River in flood waters of brown
Flowing bank high in the old fields close to Millstreet Town
And the croaking of breeding frogs in the waterlogged drain
And old Clara half cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
Beautiful memories of what was for me are with me today
Of the fields lush and green in their wildflowers of May
Though no Country in the world in that i would rather be
Than in this Southern Land which is now home to me.