Sustained by produce farmed through crofters toil
Jerusalem espied, one’s life enhanced
O’er ‘Green and Pleasant Land’ they tilled the soil
Around yon Maypole, all such people danced
‘Brunel’ bestrode our changing face and how
‘Satanic Mills’ spewed forth as darkened souls
With molten rivers quenched by sweat of brow
A revolution turned, once more unfolds
Equality is sought by those without
Our Ladies mantra now, is ‘sure we can’
Bemused in asking, what it’s all about
Protesting lot in servitude to Man
Abide with me ‘til open hearts refined
Pray forge such ties as Deity designed