HAPPY BIRTHDAY, INGLUND!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ENGLAND.
and
HAPPY ST. GEORGE'S DAY TO YOU ALL!!
There's so much wrong with this pic, like, oh PENCIL, and other stuff, but I was in such a stress over having nothing done that marathoning this yesterday was a relief.
The song quoted is "Jerusalem" which is one of two of England's anthems (the other being Land of Hope, and Glory).
Please forgive the many mistakes.
|D
He’s seen it for most of his life, his simple, red cross.
He’s seen it in foreign, exotic lands, stretched across the chests of holy warriors, fighting in unification for the first time against a Godless enemy.
He’s seen it, torn from sword blades, tattered, and spattered with churned mud, and coppery blood, flickering amongst the yells of pain, and the screaming of horses.
He’s seen it fluttering from atop the tallest stone spires, reaching for Heaven, there for all to see, and revere, but not to touch.
He’s seen it glistening from approaching ships, ecstatic in victory, coming home to a land that it will protect until it is ripped from its perch, and burnt to cinders.
He’s seen it in brief flashes of amidst the choking, black smoke of canon, and rifle, drawing the enemy closer, taunting, and unforgiving.
He’s seen it change, adapt, and become a part of something new, not the same, but a piece of something bigger, still standing proud right at its heart.
He saw it on the television last week, smeared across the faces of cheering masses, his name upon their lips, passion as red as the paint upon their faces.
He saw it just yesterday in France preceding numbers, and letters upon the garish yellow of a car number plate.
He sees it now, when he closes his eyes, because He is It, and It is Him.
His simple, red cross.
---
Have a good day, you old tosspot.
and
HAPPY ST. GEORGE'S DAY TO YOU ALL!!
There's so much wrong with this pic, like, oh PENCIL, and other stuff, but I was in such a stress over having nothing done that marathoning this yesterday was a relief.
The song quoted is "Jerusalem" which is one of two of England's anthems (the other being Land of Hope, and Glory).
Please forgive the many mistakes.
|D
He’s seen it for most of his life, his simple, red cross.
He’s seen it in foreign, exotic lands, stretched across the chests of holy warriors, fighting in unification for the first time against a Godless enemy.
He’s seen it, torn from sword blades, tattered, and spattered with churned mud, and coppery blood, flickering amongst the yells of pain, and the screaming of horses.
He’s seen it fluttering from atop the tallest stone spires, reaching for Heaven, there for all to see, and revere, but not to touch.
He’s seen it glistening from approaching ships, ecstatic in victory, coming home to a land that it will protect until it is ripped from its perch, and burnt to cinders.
He’s seen it in brief flashes of amidst the choking, black smoke of canon, and rifle, drawing the enemy closer, taunting, and unforgiving.
He’s seen it change, adapt, and become a part of something new, not the same, but a piece of something bigger, still standing proud right at its heart.
He saw it on the television last week, smeared across the faces of cheering masses, his name upon their lips, passion as red as the paint upon their faces.
He saw it just yesterday in France preceding numbers, and letters upon the garish yellow of a car number plate.
He sees it now, when he closes his eyes, because He is It, and It is Him.
His simple, red cross.
---
Have a good day, you old tosspot.