Pretty soon I’m off to see,
The people on my fridge,
I shall take my expat journey,
Time and distances to bridge,
There’ll be hugs, and there’ll be tears,
Then the years will fall away,
There’ll be lots of catching up,
As well as time to laugh and play,
Then the people on the fridge will wonder,
Why I just can’t stay,
I’ll admit I kind of wish I could,
But I won’t try to explain,
I’ll just hug and kiss them gently,
And then fly back home again.