Led by enticing landmass
Aching feet find a new home
Gnarled forests and fetid swamps
And new grass on which to roam.
Pushed from behind by many
Fear of force unknown
This united pangaea’s seeds
They’re scattered, shattered and sown

Land of the mongrel,
Home to the world.

Leather sandals form a solid boot
And affluent, shielded mass of man
There’s no fear of the unknown this time
Just a routine conquest of land.
The caretaker waits an age on the throne
As his falling empire expands
Pulled from behind by jewel encrusted fists
Some sever the homecoming strand.

Land of the mongrel,
Home to the world.

And did those with feet of clay walk with pride
Or scurry for a place to hide
And when they put their foot down
Turn with pride to turn the tide
They didn’t want to die.
And to england’s mountains green
We are all intruders of the most obscene kind
Chasing clockwork dreams
To build, destroy
Double, toil and trouble
Now the fire burns with hatred
An enemy is created
And the mountain sits frustrated
As the dead-bolt locks.

A cheering voyage long and frozen,
Heated hearts by hope and lust,
Some floated away upon riches annexed
After others had settled as dust
And though the old complaints remained
Complaints complained, complaints ingrained
The puffing was no mighty gust
This once stinging w.a.s.p’s nest
Has finally started to trust.

Land of the mongrel,
Home to the world.

The tapestry is never completed
(winds of changes can force your hand)
Guide seeming deadly arrows to your eye
(these taxing questions show the truth)
The mongrel outlives the purebred,
These mongrels will outlive the sky.

Land of the mongrel,
Home to the world.