Disunion Britannia

Had I harked and worn

the dressings of worry

I might have made the decision

To disappear in a flurry

Had I pondered like a pilot

With the dread of my own fault

I would have overcome the sickness

And depravity, the lot

Had I waited and blundered

With the sultry depressions of state

I could not have become a man

Alike the traditions of late

Had I planted myself a burden

Among the weeping and the dead

I ought not to have grown living

In the eyes of my dear head

Had I harked and worn

the dressings of worry

I might have made the decision

To disappear in a flurry

Had I perused an English field

Shot by the farmer himself

So to see another dandelion

Place it upon my top shelf

Had I fought the suns mighty ray

At the edges of limit and reason

I may furnish the quest alone

Under inquisition of British treason

Had I harked, cried and rallied

At the crux of a cruel divorce

I can only dream of being brit-skeptic

Now that fate must run it's course

Had I harked and worn

the dressings of worry

I might have made the decision

To disappear in a flurry