When I look back on my ancestry
I find them all scrambling for life
After persevering for five centuries
In the same small ancient town
Finally two or three got fed up
Enough to push off for freedom
In a crowded open boat
Often it was my mothers
Who were prepared to risk it all
But of course some stayed behind
The son or daughter who couldn't
Abandon their ailing father
Certain to inherit the farm
Pending his favorite's return
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