On the last time that I heard the chaffinch sing
It was in New Zealand's North Island in the Spring
Since then another ten Springs have gone by
On looking back the years just seem to fly.
The pink breasted male chaffinch has a familiar song
Once heard he's one you never can get wrong
When i was young in Ireland in Springs ago
They sang in wood and groves and on hedgerow.
When the hawthorns were laden in their white blossoms of the May
The chaffinch's song it heralded the day
Along by the hedgerows the ever babbling rill
Raced downland from it's birthplace by the hill.
A voice from the past that in memory i retain
And though i may never hear them sing again
The chaffinches were familiar birds to me
And they are present in my memory.
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