On Hyndford Street

Take me back, take me way, way, way back

On Hyndford Street

Where you could feel the silence at half past eleven

On long summer nights

As the wireless played Radio Luxembourg

And the voices whispered across Beechie River

In the quietness as we sank into restful slumber in the silence

And carried on dreaming, in God

And walks up Cherry Valley from North Road Bridge, railway line

On sunny summer afternoons

Picking apples from the side of the tracks

That spilled over from the gardens of the houses on Cyprus Avenue

Watching the moth catcher working the floodlights in the evenings

And meeting down by the pylons

Playing round Mrs. Kelly's lamp

Going out to Holywood on the bus

And walking from the end of the lines to the seaside

Stopping at Fusco's for ice cream

In the days before rock 'n' roll

Hyndford Street, Abetta Parade

Orangefield, St. Donard's Church

Sunday six-bells, and in between the silence there was conversation

And laughter, and music and singing, and shivers up the back of the neck

And tuning in to Luxembourg late at night

And jazz and blues records during the day

Also Debussy on the third programme

Early mornings when contemplation was best

Going up the Castlereagh hills

And the cregagh glens in summer and coming back

To Hyndford Street, feeling wondrous and lit up inside

With a sense of everlasting life

And reading Mr. Jelly Roll and Big Bill Broonzy

And "Really The Blues" by "Mezz" Mezzrow

And "Dharma Bums" by Jack Kerouac

Over and over again

And voices echoing late at night over Beechie River

And it's always being now, and it's always being now

It's always now

Can you feel the silence?

On Hyndford Street where you could feel the silence

At half past eleven on long summer nights

As the wireless played Radio Luxembourg

And the voices whispered across Beechie River

And in the quietness we sank into restful slumber in silence

And carried on dreaming in God.