This our land, our Angleland as it has come to be known.
A united land, a peaceful land our history will not show.
For a fractured land, a violent land our history will always know.
We start with the Britons this ancient folk, first to settle these shores.
Subdued by foe of a foreign sea, from where they did not know.
But upon decline of this foreign foe, the Britons ruled once more.
Then the Angles, Saxons and Jutes claimed for us these shores.
Pushed out we did the native folk, to the far corners of this land
New kingdoms arose, new cultures sown, in our peoples grand new home.
As years went by an idea arose of one kingdom for all our kin.
But, a foreign blight, a different blight then came to pillage and sin.
This heathen folk, this pagan folk claimed and settled our home.
Our kin subdued, a now fractured land, peace we can not know.
With our home hanging by a thread, a great King had arose.
The fight began to reclaim our home, which this blight had all but stole.
After years of strife,— blood, sweat, toil and tears, in a united land we stand.
Their culture absorbed, their rulers gone, creating peace within our home.
We built up defences, trained up our forces, to prevent division again.
In the north new invaders fought but against us they did fall.
After marching South, on a battleground our King he too did fall.
One by one our lords were gone, to foreign men our fealty we did lay.
Kings have come and kings have gone, a few Queens in between.
In all this time we have grown strong, no invaders have we known.
Instead twas us whilst in foreign lands, claims to rule were struck.
In recent times, we became a peaceful land, of that I think we know.
A united land, a glorious land of that there can be no doubt.
Through the years we have done well, gaining empire and great wealth.
Our faith may change, our knowledge may grow but we our still our fathers.
The fields we sow are the fields they sowed, through that we are but one.
We have duty to ensure as our fathers before, our sons have land on which to grow.
Our Lords once great now slither like snakes, away from duty they go.
The disregard shown for common folk, is different than in years ago.
Now, only greed they know as they forget, from where power will always flow.
The peace we know, as history must show is delicate like fresh snow.
Our people worked hard, for our home these shores, our fathers never stopped.
From our past we must learn or to our past we will return, that can not be forgot.
Now in recent times we have to ask, will our Angleland last much more?
In our longest peace our people grow meek, reluctant to defend our shore.
The culture we breathed is now diminished and weak, in favour of our neighbours next door.
The eyes of youth now see no foe, all are equal, all are one.
Our children forget our struggles of old, our history they do not know.
To prefer the other is to lose oneself, your identity you do not know.
We invited in all the different folk, form the furthest shores there are.
We dilute our lands, our shores, our home, with those we do not know.
Friend or foe, how can we be sure until it is too late for change.
This our land, our England as know by those who speak today.
A united land, a peaceful land can our future clearly state?
For in times yet seen a fractured land, are we in danger to create?