A fair green brooke
A gentle place
Steep in cliffs and mountain hooks
Nestled down in a valley of little space
Sits a town
Old and new
With a sky of grey and fields of brown
The air is wet from dew
What a place
It almost feels like home
But it only has one road
Once you go you never leave
So I gaze from the hill
Wishing I could travel down
Knowing once I did that would be it for me.