Many folk begin life In some quiet suburban street Playing in the backyard With siblings at their feet Spying through the palings It's not long before they sense The fruit trees more enticing Across the neighbour's fence
You remember growing older And taken for a ride For a quiet family picnic In the rustic countryside But these pleasant outings Possess no special thrills And sense it's more alluring On the far side of those hills
The World and all it's wonders Seem a more exciting place Than sitting round the hearthfire At life's routine daily pace Now with modern transport Most folk can explore What promised fascination lies Beyond each distant shore
Those exotic places Placed on a 'bucket list' Hoping through the course of time None of them be missed No doubt of graphic interest though They had probably most been seen While they were sitting quietly By the television screen
When on that final journey Comes the nagging little doubt What all the hectic travelling What was it all about And over wide horizons Despite how far they roam Lies unbidden that one yearning For the solitude of home
When on that final journey Comes the nagging little doubt What all the hectic travelling Was really it all about And over wide horizons Despite how far they roam Lies unbidden that one yearning For the solitude of home.
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