PORTSTEWART

 

The wind blows cold across the water

Onto these northern shores

Where I was born, where I was brought up

And where I once belonged

Where I learned about love and I learned to be strong

And I learned right from wrong

But somewhere down the line I took a wrong turn

And I lost my way back home

 

I remember a pretty little dancer

She held my soul to ransom

I remember and the memory haunts me

Oh.. oh... and then some

I recall the wonder of it all

And though I try to hold on

Deep down in my soul I know...

I know those days are gone

 

I can still see Portstewart harbour

And the shelter on the hill

Where lovers walked in the old days

Oh.. oh.. and they still do

And though it looks the same from a distance

Nothing stays the same

And when I look around me in my hometown

Nothing much remains

Of the things I loved and the things I knew

And those pretty little dancing girl memories of you

 

But the wind still blows cold across the water

Onto these northern shores

Where I was born, where I was brought up

And where I once belonged

 

© Errol Walsh