England, My Home

Another vital point gained at The Hawthorns this afternoon, although considering we were 2-0 up with half an hour to go, it feels slightly bittersweet. Nevertheless, as I gradually recover from my weekly nervous breakdown, I find myself cautiously optimistic about our survival prospects for the first time in quite a while.

Not much chance for getting outside and hunting down blippable material, but here's something that caught my eye, and it may feel appropriate for any rugby fans out there (thankfully, having grown up in the staunch footballing territory of the industrial Midlands, the attraction of the oval ball remains a mystery to me).

We could do worse than to have some music from The Levellers.

You gave me my birth
Then you made me pay
What is it worth
Cast me away
You've really done it now
Dying in my arms
You stand here with nothing
But you've still got English charm

Oh England, you're my home
My heart's heart
Crashing thunder of love
You're a place of the poor
Open wound
The lost rites of love

You cut your own throat
Then you let it bleed
Misleading your people
From what they all need
Roots forgotten
That's what we all say
But what does it matter
You're the USA

Why is it England, I feel like rubbish on your streets?
Why is it when I care, I feel incomplete?
Why does our future seem such a feat?
When will our consciousness finally meet?

Whatever happened to my green and pleasant land?