I`ve come back to my old stomping ground
And there are many changes to be found,
No swings, slide or maypole to play upon,
My childhood playground I loved is now gone.
Hangings were once a spectators day out,
When we played, of this we knew nowt,
Our park was once the prison in Kirkdale,
I loved the place that`s from where I hale.
On bikes, scooters, skates and just our feet,
We`d meet in the park instead of the street,
We had bushes in which to play hide and seek,
And when we were caught you`d hear us shriek.
The park now stands stark, barren and bare,
Where once our laughter would fill the air,
Our long days of summer were spent in those grounds,
And what would amuse us wouldn`t cost pounds.
I think of my friends `cause they`ve gone too,
All my childhood pals that I once knew,
I smile, `cause I had a good time,
Those memories will always be mine.
