I breathe deeply, moonshine sweetly dripping from my tongue,
the time has come to move away and
so I move my still into today,
This still and I go back some time,to when the wine we drank was blood red,good red,full,
the time of Tull and martyrs,Khan and Tartars,when men were men but then came industrialisation,the undoing of a once great Nation and you may mock but I say,'put a sock in it' we hit upon what we thought good which turned our forests into firewood,burnt in factories belching smoke,smoking's bad,is that a joke?
We built the century into a city with no thought and certainly not an ounce of pity for those whose clothes hung like rags on a nail,set sail for war to steal some more,oh we were good but now we lack the firewood to build a fire in the grate,
this state ruled over by the Queen has seen much better days,so it's better I remain, bound in the mill beside the still with moonshine sweetly dripping off my tongue.
I see what's done and is being done and when we go to Kingdom come we'll go with cap in hand,
a beggars band,a beggars land
an 'Ozymandias'
in the sand.