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My Gran was a Caribbean ladyAs Caribbean as could beShe came across to visit usIn Shoreham by the sea.
Spices and gold once cast a spellOn bearded men in caravels.
New World New World cried historyOld World Old World sighed every tree.
Behind youWindrush childpalm trees wave goodbye
above youWindrush childseabirds asking why
around youWindrush childblue water rolling by