In the rush of kings to claim an empty throne the kingdom was destroyed
Potential queens roamed empty palaces, rich but unemployed
No-one saw the subjects slip away, melting back into the hills and forests
The crown became irrelevant, a symbol without meaning
In the battle for a land of milk and honey the harvest failed
Rack-boned cattle fell on cracking river-beds, dying in their droves
Hunger sat content at every table. Marching armies stalled for lack of food
Still the battle raged over a landscape featureless and void
On a windswept beach with spade and bucket we build our wondrous ship
Its keel we make of driftwood, its bulwarks all of sand
We choose a captain, post a watch, call our water "grog"
We weigh anchor, haul on ropes, set imaginary sails
Then we stand vacant as the tide comes in, and our endeavour fails
We called him a red setter, because as the sun went down, he used to bark
Yes, we called him a red setter, 'cos as the sun went down, he used to bark
With a sound like a whale breaching, crashing down onto the water
With a sound like a tree falling, and then a shower of splinters
With a sound like wild horses galloping down a long hill
And his bark was wordless and full of a kind of meaning
And his bark was wordless and full of a kind of meaning
But it made no sense to us
We sense the tired slow-handclap of time impatient for beginning
The deep swell of a tidal wave approaching, readying to break
A whisper in the few remaining trees; an other-worldly light above the clouds
The seventh trumpeter licking his lips and drawing breath...