In Albia

On New Year's Day I gave my heart to a land

where no more lives are ruined by royal command,

where the beast who squats on Jersey twiddling his sausage-fingered hands

is riven with frustration at a world he cannot understand

(and sharing just the one house with a family he can't stand)

I dug a hole on New Year's Day

and in that hole I gave away

my whole heart, my one heart and soul

for Albia.

On New Year's Day I dug a hole in a piece of blasted ground

and eagerly embraced the most amazing grace that I have found,

a body and a country both of which I'm proud to have around,

a nation-state of lovers, to each other each is bound

in so much more than servitude, a service most profound:

I took a vow on New Year's Day

and pledged that all my life I'll strain

my might, my very might and main

for Albia.

And every day since that day when my heart was buried deep

I make like Willie Blake and from this mental fight I will not sleep,

there are butchers bearing down on us who dearly wish that we were sheep

but at long last we are lions and the butchers we'll defeat,

knowing they can never force our revolution to retreat

and the day after we beat them

then as equals we will meet,

and we will meet,

yes we will meet

in Albia.