We Can Only Visualize

We can only visualize what used to be The things again we never more may see Though in flights of fancy i can see again Old Clara half cloaked in the fogs of rain It is true the savage loves his native shore In my memory's eye above high Claramore The dark winged swallows chirping as they fly And the skylark singing in the sunny sky The robin singing on the alder tree In Claraghatlea that once was home to me When i was younger and in my life's prime Going back just over three decades in time Perhaps i'll never again hear a cow Lowing in a field by the River Finnow On a Summer evening as the sun goes down In the quiet countryside just west of Millstreet Town An old voice that remains as ever young The mountain rill born with the ceaseless tongue By ditch and hedgerow every night and day On to the river babbling on it's way To memory we are slaves as some do say And the biological clock as ever ticks away The now is all that matter since the past has gone And all around us life it does go on.