Leaves are falling and turning to showers of gold As the postman climbs up our long hill And there's sympathy written all over his face As he hands me a couple more bills

Who will watch the home place Who will tend my hearts dear space Who will fill my empty place When I am gone from here

There's a lovely green nook by a clear-running stream It was my place when I was quite small And it's creatures and sounds could soothe my worst pains But today they don't ease me at all

In my grandfather's shed there are hundreds of tools I know them by feel and by name And like parts of my body they've patched this old place When I move them they won't be the same

Now I wander around touching each blessed thing The chimney the tables the trees And my memories swirl 'round me like birds on the wing When I leave here oh who will I be