Across the great, grey Norfolk skies,
Heading back in perfect formation
They fly on a thousand silent wings
Onwards towards their destination.
High above the Norwich spires
The golds and reds of woodland
The patchwork fields of greys and browns,
And silent airfields... waiting
On a thousand silver wings
Onward, along by the coast
Where the sand is flecked
And on, on to the marshes
Where shy grasses dance and sing..
The geese are back, the geese are back!