I could take a city bird release it in the valley feel free again by watching it fly up and down, rejoicing. In Yorkshire, I could do this and myself is here in Yorkshire. But then: I hear the voices of a thousand blooming lilies, backyard weeds with purple buds and dandelions we spared in spring. They're calling me by name I hear them wishing me my spirit saying bye, good-bye, remember us good-bye, good-bye, you're leaving us how many times you've thought of us up in those Yorkshire hills.