Old Albion

The scent of an English meadow wafts gently through the bars.
The sounds of summer harvesting can be heard from afar.
The beauty of old Albion, a beauty hard to beat, but the heart has been corrupted, by the changing power-seat.

Will we stand and watch them taking our freedom away?
Will we stand and watch them taking our freedom away?

Our warriors are slandered, and thrown into their jails and kept from their loved ones, in dungeons deep and stale.
They say that self-defence is no offence, until the law starts with their lies.
They’ll send you down for protecting your own, already guilty in their lying eyes.

Will we stand and watch them taking our freedom away?
Will we stand and watch them taking our freedom away?
Our warriors are slandered, and thrown into their jails and kept from their loved ones, in dungeons deep and stale.

Our hearts are full of love and pride, for England is our home.
The hills and dales are in our souls, and the forests ours to roam.
But now we lie back in our cells, and think of times gone by.
We think back of our lives and homes, and the girls who wait and cry.

Will we stand and watch them taking our freedom away?
Will we stand and watch them taking our freedom away?
Our warriors are slandered, and thrown into their jails and kept from their loved ones, in dungeons deep and stale.