Friday, July 1, 2011

So.

I live and die
through England.
I live and die
through England.
It leaves
sadness.
It leaves a taste,
a bitter one.


Remedies
never were,
remedies,
not within my reach.
I cannot go on as I am.
I cannot leave.


A withered vine,
a bitter one
reaching from
the nations' dirt.
England,
I have searched for your springs,
but people stagnate with time
like water or air.


Undaunted, never-failing love for you,
England,
is all, to which I cling.

3 comments:

squib said...

Which reminds me, I still haven't put that CD in the car

Ramon Insertnamehere said...

Oh, Squib!

Kettle said...

I'm a bit surprised by these lyrics, post-globalisation, the internet, etc. Or perhaps I just can't relate but should try harder to?