In memory of many days that were happy

 In memory of many days that were happy

And some that were sad

From an Island I was born in

I don’t feel so bad

 

This ain’t no New Zealand

This ain’t no France

But if I had to choose again

I’ll always choose my land

 

In her quite beaches

On her restless sands

Some men call her thoughtful

Some men call her mad

 

But I’ll only remember her mountains

And her precious sands

Trees that seem to talk to me

Birds that sing I can

 

I only hear what I want to hear

I only see good things

Time here ticks to her own beat

The birds here always sing