*Song of the Falklands*

*In my heart there's a call for the isles far away*

*Where the wind from the Horn often wanders at play.*

*Where the kelp moves and swells to the wind and the tide*

*And penguins troop down from the lonely hillside.*

*Those isles of the sea are calling to me,*

*The smell of the camp fire a dear memory.*

*Though far I may roam, some day I’ll come home*

*To the islands, the Falklands, the isles of the sea.*

*There's a camp house down yonder I'm longing to see,*

*Though it's no gilded palace it's there I would be.*

*Just to be there again I would race o’er the foam,*

*For that lone house so far is my own home sweet home.*

*Now we’re off to the Falklands, so wild and so free,*

*Where there's tussock and kelp and the red diddle-dee,*

*And the wild rugged beauty that thrills more than me*

*Is bred in the bones on the isles of the sea.*