Dedicated to the victims of Manchester and all the Britons affected by terrorism
In this land of green valleys,
In this land of white faces,
And yellow and brown and
Pink and black, and hundreds
Of tongues, singing like birds
The stories of journeys that
Ended in this home,
In this land of tea and beer
And pubs, and curry and pizza
And sweet and sour pork, of
May poles and Chinese New Years,
In this land of bangles and boots
And flouncy dresses and green tattoos,
In this land of discontent at times
And silly football fights,
Of bookers and charity volunteers,
Of summer festivals in the mud
And druids around the Tor
And scientists writing their quantum
Music of the spheres, and robot and
Man muscling together to create a car
A train, a super plane, soon a rocket
To reach the heights where the stars
Of yore inspired a pen to call a boy Romeo
And his girlfriend Juliet,
In this land that feels as old as time
And yet so new, where it takes a walk
Or two to find a cow or a sheep on
The borders of steel and brick cities.
In this land when some have it good
And some quite not so, in this
Land where no politician is ever
Taintless and we can argue for ages
About left and right, in this land
When sometimes the shadow of
Hatred sneaks between the roses,
In this land we look and talk and think
And hope so differently, yet alike.
In this land, there is no fear.
For time and time again
Those who tried and failed
And those who tried and hurt,
Have found that, in this land,
We take crap from no one,
Not even our petite selves,
When it comes to stand together
And defend this land of grace.
And we will weep for our children
And young and old, killed cowardly
By a freak with a bomb, an assassin with a car,
An idiot with a machine gun on a Turkish beach,
A traitor with a knife.
We will weep and cry and pray, if pray
If what we do. We will hold each other
And hug a stranger. Light candles in
City centres and lay stuffed elephants
And pink hippos on a carpet of flowers
On the middle of the street. And we will
Remember, but never give in.
Not once shall we give up
That which make us unique:
The values forged by millennia of
People coming together from every
Corner of the world. And of all
The names we are called, United and
Great are engraved in the centre
Of a core, wherever we have been
Britons by birth or by choice, by a
Lineage extending 20 generations or
By a grandpa that came 30 years ago,
Seeking the British dream.
And in this land, our land,
Some of us will take our tea
And some of us will celebrate Ramadan,
And some instead of quiz night will
Hold Salsa nights.
And we’ll remember our dead children,
In this land.
And our mums and dads taken away
In an act of senseless rage and pseudo-revenge.
But in this land, we stand together, come what may.
And no matter the storm or the violence
Or the threat of the fear,
Together we will keep this land great,
United in a cheer, a beacon of freedom and
Hope and peace and beauty and innovation.
For we are Brits and when we fall, we
Breathe, we swear, we shed a tear, we dust off our knees,
Get up, stand tall. And then we go and carry on.