And shall these drills in modern times
Frack through the fields of England green
And shall those towers of slashing blades
On every hill and mount be seen
And shall that cancerous, nuclear waste
Poison her rivers and her streams
And GM weeds sprout in the ruins
Of England’s children’s shattered dreams.
Bring me my bow
Of burning gold
Bring me my arrows of desire
Bring me my spear
Oh clouds unfold
Bring me my chariot of fire
I shall not cease from mental strife
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
‘Til we have built Jerusalem
In England’s green and pleasant land.