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..... 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 really gone

 

I can still see Portstewart harbour

And the shelter on the hill

Where lovers walked in the old days

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