Really late, set off in England's Green,
and where the weather wettest,
Heart to find.
Licking at my salty hand.
Mud in March in grass, on land.

Running too fast for my feet it
makes them laugh and fall away from
under me.
Quick enough to make me laugh
Quick enough to be a spark.
Having been told this is paradise, it's like
it's getting late
No time to have a good cry (I know I am)
I'm waiting for the Sun to give me a gift of light
And air is nothing worse
but everywhere.

Quick enough to be a spark,
lay me cold sea bed.
Sea bed's in a mess, comb it all with my hand
Instead I drink the tiny whirlpools that
make me skid and turn in my sleep
where I burn.

Really late, set off in England's Green,
and where the weather wettest,
Heart to find.
Licking at my salty hand.
Mud in March in grass, on land.

Quick enough to be a spark,
lay me cold sea bed.
Sea bed's in a mess, comb it all with my hand
Instead I drink the tiny whirlpools that
make me skid and turn in my sleep
where I burn.
Give me a gift, light and air
Nearly on time, nearly there


Lyrics submitted by Pheeel

England's song meanings
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