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He was Sicilian born a fishermanâs son
Came over in â23
Worked like a dog for a couple of years
Then sent for his family
Well he worked on the docks and he worked on the railways
He worked âtil his back was gone
Bought a semi-detached in Erskineville
Moved in and paved the lawn
His three boys grew and married
Young blonde and blue-eyed girls
And soon enough there were grandkids coming
To look in on his world
And they were fair and blue-eyed too
And to him they all looked the same
If Sicilian blood flowed through their lives
Youâd only know it by their last name
And he never talked in his native tongue
And he never talked about going home
And he told me once the reason why
He said, âHomeâs not where youâre born
Home is where a manâs prepared to dieâ
He outlived his wife Maria; she died in â82
And for a long time after he was lost for what to do
Heâd sit alone at the window and doze the days away
So I didnât see him much anymore unless he happened to wave
Still he never talked etc
Well I went up North on a two-week spell about a month ago
And to my surprise when I came home I found his place had sold
I called the other neighbours to find out where heâs gone
They say, âHe packed up and just went back to wherever he came fromâ
And he never talked etc