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Back Home In Galloway ©

Ian McCrae
Sydney, Australia
2003

Across a thousand sunsets
I have this childish dream,
A bridge awaits my coming
Or that, is how it seems:

A distant song the bagpipes play
From way beyond my time,
My heart in rhythm with the song
The words, I cannot find.

Across the bridge, time stands still
The summer winds are blowing,
The old place looks the same
I know where I am going.

Down the pathway through the glen
Out where the falcons fly,
An old stone house neglected
I hear a mothers cry.

Unfolding memories as I sleep
The clouds were riding high,
My childhood days recaptured
The night just seemed to fly.

The morning sky is overcast
The shadows seemed to linger,
Haunting voices from the past
I don't need a binder.

As I turned to say goodbye
I just look back to say,
The bridge I crossed will always be
Back home in Galloway.


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