| The wind upon my face and the scent of the sea,
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| Oh these are the memories I carry with me,
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| The mist rolling in and silver clouds above,
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| Oh these are the reveries of all that I love.
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| The smell of turf in winter, my mother’s smiling face,
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| So easily remembered, so easily placed,
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| The sunrise through the trees at the dawning of the day,
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| Would cradle me within its arms and carry me away.
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| The Atlantic Storm is raging,
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| Calling me back home to the land of my birthplace where I’m never alone.
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| I hear it rumble in the distance, the home of my heart
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| Oh Atlantic Storm how I wish we never had to part.
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| I hear my father calling through waves upon the sands,
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| We walk on by the houses and down along the strand,
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| I see familiar faces, my comrades, my friends,
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| How I’ve missed their warmth and tenderness which I’ll never leave again.
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| The Atlantic Storm is raging
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| Calling me back home to the land of my birthplace where I’m never alone.
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| I hear it rumble in the distance, the home of my heart
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| Oh Atlantic Storm how I wish we never had to part. |