The South Country

I was a simple herdsmen

A tennant of the rich man's soil

I worked these gentle southern slopes

Found solace in my toil

 

Though my brother was a restless soul

Could not live by these means

He declared he'd head for Canada

In search of bolder dreams

 

Though not running from the famine

Or in search of any gold

He painted such a picture

Of a piece of land to hold

 

That I packed my few belongings

The little that I owned

But when I glanced back at these southern hills

I said: "I cannot go."

 

From this south country

I'm loath to leave

This south country

Is a part of me

Though it holds no mountains

Though it boasts no mines

And you couldn't say all the people

Here would treat you kind

If you walk the down land in Spring

Across the fields and by hedgerows

The paths that pilgrims feet once trod

Where the gentle river flows

From this South Country

I cannot go

In this South Country

Lay me low

 

Now my brother left for Canada

I stayed for the quiet life

I married and she bore a son

Who was caught up in this strife

 

He headed for the fields of France

Never to return alive

And see again these southern hills

Which I could never leave behind

 

And I had hoped someday

That he would work this land

That London slowly spills towards

The hillside where I stand

 

And though they said he was sacrificed

In the war to end all wars

There's growing discontent again

Coming from foreign shores

 

But I'm old and I am dying now

They say that I've TB

My wife she props me up in bed

So the last thing I might see would be

 

This south country

I'm loath to leave

This south country

Is a part of me

Though it has no mountains

Though it holds no mines

And I couldn't say that all the people here would treat you kind

If you walk the downs in Spring time

Across the fields and by hedgerows

The paths that pilgrims feet once trod

Where the gentle river flows

From this south country

I could not go

In this south country

Lay me low

 

Now my Grandma she told this tale

That I might understand

How a man could feel himself rooted

To this southern land

 

But I can't afford to rent

Where bankers build their own

When I look out at this southern land

It feels no more my home

 

Though this South Country

I'm loath to leave

And this south country is still

A part of me