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Black Day in Britain

A bright red double-decker bus ripped apart,
and three trains were targets of Islamic hate.
Innocent people were hurt by evil’s heart,
and now good people are touched by fate.

Talking heads spewed news in an orgy of words,
each seeking to out do the other in tragedy TV.
Cameras, recording everything in sight, a media herd,
reporters reciting the same words, mindless as can be!

For the Brits we feel a connection, cousins that we be,
for we’ve been there ourselves, 9/11 scars still so raw.
Terrorists, inhuman, violence soaked minds you see,
filled with hate, everything sticks in their craw.

To the Brits we extend our hand to help plan punitive raids,
information and intelligence, tools of Justice’s Iron Hand.
Our cousins need, and we will be there to render aid,
for we are closer then some nations might understand.

Islamic fundamentalists are becoming careless now,
they added to the number of hunters looking for them.
More of the world is now aware, since the bloody row,
and England will stand to fight, evil now to stem.

Still the Muslim masses hold their silence, as before,
looking like their part of it, a load they will have tobear.
A world war is coming against the evil of Muslim hate,
and even moderates will hide in their respective lairs.

To our cousins across the great salt sea, we care,
we’ll stand beside you as you’ve stood by us.
We will hunt the hellions down with you there,
and they will pay for innocents on a old red bus!

JERUSALEM

The music for this patriotic song was composed by Charles Hubert Hastings Parry, (1848-1918) in 1916. The words are from a poem by William Blake (1757-1827)

. JERUSALEM

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?

And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic Mills?

Bring me my Bow of burning gold:
Bring me my Arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear! O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire.

I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.

From Milton, a poem in two Books (1804-1808) by William Blake.

Keep on fighting England with thy mighty sword . . . these Sons of Satan have just woken up the British Lion . . . be afraid Terrorists . . .be very afraid!!!