There's a road that winds down

There’s a road that winds down from the top of the town to the place where I dwelt

I never had felt the need to go back ‘til time snatched away mine and destiny dealt

A blow to my heart and left me to cry o’er flowers and notes that were penned by old scrotes

Relieved ‘twas not they who’d spent their last day and beyond going grey shuffled off this sad coil

To be covered in soil

And so I drove round over Bryn-y-Coed’s ground trying hard not to seem as if

I wasn’t keen to see in through drapes that twitched at the tapes, saying ‘who the hell’s that

In a motor so flash, splashing his cash? So, what’s the allure of coming down here? To pry or to sneer?’

If only they thought that all that I sought were the ghosts of my day. A chance to replay

A time to repay

There’s a lawn that I mowed a seed that I sewed a game that I played a gate I had leapt

A room where I’d slept and dreamt of a time when I’d leave this behind going off for to find

My fortune my fame and when this was done only then I’d return to show off my wealth

And in such rude health folk would point and admire the ‘Strand boy’ made good

‘If only we could....’

Cul de sac turning head and heart churning with memories bundled and burning

A hole in my feelings, revealing the parts of my past, this good humble past

Bestowing me values, principles, truths for life’s struggle and how I could juggle

The bits and the pieces, the ups and the downs, the smiles and the frowns,

The road that winds down

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