I sit and think of the days gone by when I stood tall with head held high.
Those busy days when life was grand, was when I worked on gods good land.
Upon this land that lay so low, dwealt sheep and cattle, fox and crow.
A peaceful river to did wind and on its banks grew shrubs and vine.
The river Avon is its name, a steam to which the romans came.
They built a bridge to walk across a road there too, to reach the foss.
The Watling Street that road you see now brings the angers straight to me.
This land that once grazed cows and sheep has fishing lakes with waters deep.
Ten pools in all where swim big fish, was once my dream and greatest whish.
This land, which was green with rye, is blessed with water from the sky.
This land where now swims ducks and drakes is now a place called Clifton Lakes.