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East Yorkshire where two rivers meet And ships stand by a city street Where lassies walk in coppered clogs On waterfronts where fishy fogs Furl fitfully above the mud One day I'll go back there for good Tall dalesmen still tread furrow-high The sailors' roll will never die Until the Humber takes a turn To run bone dry from Goole to Spurn And in my father's house at dawn Dear little house where I was born I'll hear the creeper on the walls Sigh in the wind When evening falls We'll spin long yarns which once were true And I'll be home again with you
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