I was taken back to Dorset
when the vans were on the heath
where the heather grew so willd and free
it sure was home to me
i remember all the brickyards
where Sankey dug the clay
where Granfer feed the pgs and hens
where as i child i played
i roamed the Purbeck hillsides
from creech to swanage sands
i gathered in the hay
i listened to the bands
The winding rivers frome and stour
the pleasant wareham walls
where the orchards were in bloom
where as boys we chased the girls
i recall the favourite haunts
where gulliver did roam
where lawrence lived upon clouds hill
where hardy he called home
i walked the winding pathways
glimpsed the thatch and more
i ambled over corfes great scene
strode up gold hills tours
the memories they will last me
the scenes so scenic rare
the harbour set in pooles great haunts
where once there were a fair
the gypsies with their baskets
outside woolies shops
the heather and the paper crisp
the long walks to the shops
i strolled upon the kinson track
where gypsies once did roam
where whites and sherwoods
grazed their horse and ponies on the moor
the menmories they came flooding back
like blytons secret tales
the gorse and firze amongst the greens
their scents and aroma smells
the little park where train did run
where kids did have such fun
where zunners packed their haversacks
then to the seas did chase
where cockels bathed in mud and more
time spent in lulworths caves
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