Ye sons of Britain

Who once were free

Ye now are slaves to factory

Those who walk the path of mole

Expect in time to kill thy soul



look



*Down in the wood in the murky gloom

Trolls go marching two by two

Down through the cave and the mouth of doom

Down, down, down in the gloom, gloom,gloom

Hey kala ho kala ho la jai



but look



*Who should come by the mountain way

Young Finn Hanley

A lute he play

Clothed in scarlet livery

All wide eyed in the bright noon day

Tiree tiraloo tiraloo i ay



Creative intelligence has been crushed

by industrial uniformity?