| Lyrics: | Grey the mist, cold the dawn,
Cruel the sea and stern the shore.
Brave the man who sets
his course
For Albion.
Sweet the rose, sharp the thorn,
Meek the soil, and
proud the corn.
Blessed the lamb that would be born
Within this green and pleasant
land.
Coronach.
Coronach.
Coronach.
Coronach.
Coronach.
Co
ronach.
Brown furrow shine beneath the rain-washed blue
Bright crystal streams from
eagle mountains born.
Fortune has smiled on those who wake anew
Within this fortress
nature builds to stay the hand of war.
With the wind from the east
Came the first of
those that tread
Upon this shore, this throne of kings,
This realm, this new
Jerusalem.
Coronach.
Coronach.
Coronach.
Coronach.
(Coronach.)
Coronach. (Coronach.)
Coronach. (Coronach.)
(Note: Exactly what
the chorus is saying is unclear. The best suggestion I've
heard is that it's the gaelic
pronunciation of "Coronach |
