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