R
Robert Harrison
Guest
Oh not to be here, but oh to be there
Oh to be up and away to anywhere.
Oh to be free from the shackles that
Hold me bound to a place where all
Is of a far to familiar sound.
Oh to be whisked away to pastures new,
To be ably to fly where birds often flew.
To get off this feather bed of roundabout
Civilization, to skim over sea and lands
To a different sensation.
Where my eye and ear, nose and mind
Are caressed by lands and peoples of a
Different kind.
But I am far too old now to venture so far,
And am driven everywhere in my son's
Brand new car, and taken to the shops
Where it is compulsory to look at that
Of no interest, when I'd rather be home
Reading a good Travel book.
In my reading I journey to places the
Birds often flew,
Tis there in the pages old friendships
Renew.
Oh to be up and away to anywhere.
Oh to be free from the shackles that
Hold me bound to a place where all
Is of a far to familiar sound.
Oh to be whisked away to pastures new,
To be ably to fly where birds often flew.
To get off this feather bed of roundabout
Civilization, to skim over sea and lands
To a different sensation.
Where my eye and ear, nose and mind
Are caressed by lands and peoples of a
Different kind.
But I am far too old now to venture so far,
And am driven everywhere in my son's
Brand new car, and taken to the shops
Where it is compulsory to look at that
Of no interest, when I'd rather be home
Reading a good Travel book.
In my reading I journey to places the
Birds often flew,
Tis there in the pages old friendships
Renew.
