5
No Place Like Yard
“L.A.'s fine, the sun shines most of the time,
And the feeling is laid back...
But I’m a Jamaican boy, born and raised,
And nowadays, I’m lost between two shores.
L.A.’s fine, but it ain’t home.
New York is home, but it ain’t mine no more.”
And so the heart begins to wander,
Carrying two worlds, yet never at rest.
Loneliness lingers, but the drumbeat of home
Cuts through the silence, whispering return.
Jamaica calls across the seas,
Through trade winds, sun, and island breeze.
For those who left, for those who roam,
Her beating heart still whispers: Home.
The hills remember every name,
The markets sing, the beaches claim,
Each child abroad, each dreamer gone,
To come back home where they belong.
No duty charged on love or pride,
No customs fee where roots reside.
The tools you bring, the trade you bear,
Find fertile ground — there’s room to share.
From Kingston streets to MoBay’s bay,
From parish roads to fields of clay,
The land awaits with arms stretched wide,
Your journey home, your nation’s stride.
Return, dear soul, and plant again,
For Jamaica’s strength is found in men
And women who return to reign.
In faith, in work, in family’s song—
This island’s heartbeat keeps you strong.
Credits Excerpts from “I Am... I Said” by
Neil Diamond © Universal Tunes