My home, my comfort, my beaches...
my towns, my roads and all my heart reaches.
Farm Stands with leafy greens that grew,
little coffee houses with the freshest brew.
Narrow side streets, my feet know their way...
kind smiles and hellos that get me through my day.
Distressed wooden shingles
and white trim all around...
lazy hammock Sundays and chocolates by the pound.
photo: Getty
Crisp cocktails by the sea
the smell of fried clams in the air...
talent-filled art galleries and Annual Fairs.
Fireworks bring us together
same time and place each year...
days of Labor wraps it all up with coastal flair.
Wouldn't trade a grain of sand
for a tall city high...
couldn't give you my fresh air, for gas clouds in the sky.
You can keep your crowded highway
I'll sail my ferry boat...
and when my sea breezes, I'll simply reach for my coat.
Each year I grow old
the more joy my Island brings to me...
with so many more years ahead, this is where I was meant to be.
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