England lies along the shores where constant waves roll in.
It's a place that beckons me back, though I have never been.
A longing tares inside of me that chokes my very soul
and the little taverns beckon me to return to days of old.
I inhale the cut grass blades that I've never laid upon,
and soon I must go home or I know I can't go on.
I miss hillsides through the palace and way far beyond
I want my beloved England for it's there I've made my bond.
Winter fires keep me warm through chimney's disrepair,
I long for spring to walk again, among the gardens there.
I miss my beloved England as much as I miss you,
Let's always "keep in touch" with this special Déjà vu