The sheep are lying down now
Resting under the oak
And it is so English and free
And there is peace on the hillside
And in the valley
And whenever you hear the sally of the guns
It is not for anyone but the nuns
Who are shooting into heaven above
And firing out their eternal love
For this is England in a green, green land
This is England in a blue, blue time
This is England everyday of our lives
It is like folded ecstasy,
Folding and unfolding in infinity
It is unravelled plentitude
and every kind of habitude
The crows know it's free
and they are so black
And the ravens in the trees
And the buzzards they attack
And the knights round the table
They talk of their king
But that was all such a long time ago
For this is England
This is England
It is so corrupt with corrosion
Finally earning its place
In the world
This is England, this is England
The smell of the cold
And the hawthorn trees
This is England
The collaged beaches
And the brownfields down to the sea
You can see it in the finer details
of a Turner painting
While it is smeared about like Colman's mustard
Upon the ruins of the grating
This is England in our time
This is England
Thistles and pines
Broken horses and broken cows
Oh they are walking not straight
And all the houses of broken vows
It is there now
This is England following the plough
Making all furrows
All the burrows inside ourselves
This is, this is England in the hillside
Where the rabbits are all mating, none have to decide
This is England and they're all on benefits
but that is good for the government
This is England in the Spring time
It is England in the Autumn time
This is England every noon and afternoon
And in the morning, and it is when you awake
for the sake of love
This is England and we can't go wrong
As long as we keep on singing our English song
This England I am robbed by you
And all the white van men in the afternoon
This is England and there are no voices
But the black and white choirs
Singing their different tunes.
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