The place where tower buildings are not there,
The words are simple-hearted, kind, and candid,
And school-days feel so overly extended,
And only dictionaries have the word "despair".

We ride our bikes, the best bikes in the region,
Bed linen's drying, peace and quiet there
With snow-white pigeons soaring in the air,
And mother's cupcakes scenting in the kitchen.

No lawn, no tile, no "stay-out-there" high fences,
No pizza pong, no "buy me" pesky adverts.
In my forever joyful boyhood’s land
Through years still I take a cozy stand.