We met, we loved we made a child
We partied hard and she grew wild
We moved away she followed on
Sometimes we wished she’d been a son
The moods the moans the trials and tears
God help us through those teenage years
And now we’re back on English soil
Our darling daughter comes to call
For Christmas time and New Year too
How long we ask – a year a few.
This post was submitted by Elaine.