John Fyfe ( 1997 ) My hands touch the wood and the tiles on the stair not everythings changed since the family lived there I hear the ghost of a tram car bell this place holds tales it longs to tell.... Born 'cross the Clyde, one of Anderston's gains an infant of Glasgow with Skye in your veins guided by fate down the quayside wall you raise your sail, you heed the call Where are you sailin' today, John Fyfe which is the star that looks after my life your time and mine moving closer each day when are we coming home ? Your hands grip the letter, the fatal words form adrift on the ocean, the news like a storm the last unconditional love has gone so what is this that drives you on ? I wish we could meet tho' they say it's too late but I've known your daughters & sons their past as important as their own lives Mam & Pap, the shining ones Where are you sailin' today, John Fyfe ?

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