The Hinterland

You grew up in the hinterland of artisans and farmers

Who you admired but did not wish to be

Your parents taught you how to work the land and give the sermon

 

You learned to sew when you were at their knee Your school imbued you with a natural power

You learned the name of every bird and flower Every teenage solstice you would spend on your hill With the luthier who waits there for you still

On radio, on television, came a sound and came a vision That fed dreams of life beyond the dry stone walls

But your patience, your precision, and your family's religion Meant almost nothing to the others in your halls

And you would tell them all how you felt, if you knew You would tell them all how you felt, if you knew

You know you like the evenings The evenings are alright

You could do without the afternoon, The morning, and the night

So your parents tell the neighbours As they pass them on the track: You know how Mary moved away? Well, now she's moving back'