I look back at those days, with nostalgic sighs,
And as I get older, the time really flies,
So come my friend, come with me,
Back to where, our memories we see,

Let's climb above the splendour, of the streets we once knew,
Where most have all gone, they've only left us a few,
Let's search for the sights and the sounds, that are there in our minds,
Come with me my friend, let's see what we can find,

We'll go back to the friendliest people, you could ever meet,
In the old terraced houses, street after street, after street,
With streets full of children, all playing their games,
And such friendly neighbours, remember their names,

There was 'Hynam', and 'Eynon', 'Cleavey' and 'Keach',
Just some of the names, that lived in our street,
They would dig out the coal, like far reaching moles,
Then sell it for cash, with no stain on their souls,

Yes my friend, we'll remember and behold,
The steam from those engines of old,
Where they pilfered the coal, from the wagons,
To keep warm, and protect them, from the cold,

Where women would linger, fags all alight,
And old men wore 'dai-caps', from morning till night,
With shifting curtains, and shadows just gone,
Searching for gossip, that they could pass on,

But emerging my friend, is a new lower road,
Let's hope it will shape, with the same friendly code,
Where people will pull together and rally,
The second time around, in our 'Strawberry Valley'.

© Bill Gabb - 2004

Hear a song about the valley also written by Bill

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Eddy Harrhy has responded with An Ode to Bill Gabb:

Bill don't be sad
Crown and Sceptre to Queens Hotel,
You have many happy tales to tell.
Spying cop to Valleys bot,
What fun, you had a lot.
Like Roffis ice cream was supreme,
Alas you know it's now just a dream.
Take Tapper's chips they were so sublime,
Wishing you could go back in time?
Don't forget! Brithdir boys were such a fright,
Always, always looking for a fight.
Not forgetting down the rum,
Oh indeed that was fun.
Chasing Kaiser to and fro,
Up and down, through the town.
Changing comics door to door,
Done because of being poor.
Bill! You've done well,
I can tell.
So now the chance is here,
Why not pack up all your fear.
Look up old friends that have gone,
Real mates, like Lyndon John.
So keep on writing, for Strawberry Valley,
This place on earth that was so pally.