I wish I were in Lancashire again
Pendle Hill the pike of Rivington
The mountains of North Wales , the Cheshire plain
I will never climb, my legs are gone,
Dear home, the cobbled Street my skipping rope.
The end wall of the house my mother’s face.
The tree she planted and her helpless hope
The love ,the feeling sad, the lost embrace..
I wish I were in junior school once more
The powdered ink,, the brass the desks of oak
Children’s laughter to the sky can soar,
Skipping fast and how our arms would a àche
I wish I were a child and has no cares
I miss the. Freedom, bonfire night the War
How my heart sings 