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.