So small a place, that which I’m from,
never heard of, or gotten wrong,
and I’ve forgotten, all that it’s got,
that place where I was born.
People smile, they’ll talk to you,
the beauty flag, of white and blue,
those summer nights, a youth of fun,
When shall I return?
Streets of clean, the churches neat,
in winter cold, lets warm our feet,
holding high, these home-loved heads,
I’ll never be ashamed.
Counting now, my money foreign,
take me home, I’ve not forgotten
let my country hold out its arms
I’ve been too long from home.