Let's search once more for the crystal stream
where poets sat and wrote
and young lovers dreamed of the beautiful years to come

But no more now is the crystal stream where the poets
wrote and the lovers dreamed
of the beautiful years to come

The crystal stream now a fetid sewer of filthy
industrial waste
The fields and hedgerows long since gone
to be replaced by shattered dreams
What a legacy for our unborn sons

No more do we gather and sing the songs
of the beauty that was once this land
no more do we sit and dream
of those beautiful years to come