Englishness

Although over the years I've let my feet roam,

There will only ever be the one true home,

It’s where the hills roll, and we drink too much tea,

Its where I found my soul, and my family,

We call it the greatest of them all,

Never the one to shy from the brawl,

That’s right, it’s us, it’s Eng-a-land,

The champions, the winners, the one man band,

On an island that's cold, wet and full of Brits,

Scones, dingy pubs and the old Page 3 tits,

Tucked away from the mainland, like a clam waiting to be pearled,

It’s by far my favourite place in the world,

Tallyho! Whatnot! Spit-pot good sir!

T’is much of the language we used to prefer,

Home to the Queen, Mr Bean and Shakespeare’s words,

Musicians like the Beatles and their following herd,

Alas! I digress!

I’ve said too much,

It's not me or my fault, but my Englishness