I couldn't sleep last night, filled with worry
So I got up and read till half-past four
I knew something was wrong with poor Katy
Turns out it was homesickness, nothing more
When you leave your home town and folks and pour
Your eggs in one far-off new basket, it's
A hard thing to get used to, I am sure
The nearest I can remember to this
Is '83 when I finally left Prince
Rupert's Way, Lichfield, university
Calling from the great north, from Manchester
Suddenly left in my small room with bits
And pieces, and strangers. If she loves me
And soon finds friends, so much will be in store!
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