The Sunny Side Of The Street

When I was young we lived on the sunny side of the street

One day I crossed over but was told to go back to my own side

When I was a little older I walked a little further

And I reached the street that lay at the far side of the hill

They told me I was not from there and should go home

When I was a teenager I went to the next town

And those there said I talked differently and I should not be around

When I became a man I moved to the big city down south

And every day of every month of every year they said I did not belong

When I was older I travelled overseas and they said that on my island we did things differently and I should go back to my homeland

When I was retired I moved away to the other side of the ocean

And they asked why I was on their side of the big sea

When I became ill they asked me why I was in that hospital ward

Should I not return to where the others sit?

When I died they said they could not bury me there

That I should be laid to rest on the sunny side of the street.

bobby stevenson 2013