Bridge

I'll cross that bridge to the village
to my little white-washed home
and my friendly neighbours
living with our feet on the ground.

Life was never idyllic, tough,
We worked hard out in the fields
but the work built us up

gave us strength, didn't drain our energy
like the computer screen
and the school meeting.

So, I'll cross that little bridge
to the old village left behind
by the young ones gone to the city
to live in towers and high-rises.