Oh Jubilee, your riverside sweeps
to the West, but my eye still keeps
the view of the lands I saw south
when I dreamt of the Great Sea's roaring mouth.
To the South, to the South, I hear
the gull's sad wailing, but no fear
if it be really true in old lore
we'll find there some precious ore.
Oh Coombe View, mighty upon the shore
truth is ever found in old lore
ever the waves are coming and falling
I hear the Great Sea unceasingly calling.
And I dreamt on, sweet forgetful sleep
but out of the darkness creatures creep
and as I waked they walked among the living
bless Ceridwen for that noble giving.
Two and two makes - what's the score ?
Some say three, and some say four
books of lore are sure a thing
to keep all fools lined on a string.
Grasping desire
cuts like wire
a fire of wide girth
living hell on earth.
Mounting greed
such a need
burning desire
leads to the Pyre.
Weak, yet always strong
a single note and yet a full song
Not young, but never old
yet my own, but always sold
a single mind yet a great mass
not learned but of a brillant class
farewell, it's time to finally grant
the clown a pause before the show's end...