There is a way, a well-trodden way That winds under forests and meadows of hay Under grim cities and lackluster towns For ten thousand years, the road was renowned It stood through the Stone Age, the Bronze and the Iron It stood through the plague when the folk were dyin' Roman and Saxon, Norman and Viking Albion's vein was much to their liking In a tunnel of darkness, the road was a light With beacons and milestones to guide through the night Fosse way, King Street, Watling and Ermine The road lingered on while Rome was burnin' Whitewashed castles and ornate wooden halls Under blue sky and grey, the road witnessed all But then came the end with Albion's bane The road was reduced to a cul-de-sac lane And then it was forgotten and became overgrown But the heart still beats - the heart of stone And like the famous Grail, it awaits to be found As the dead king sleeps in the burial mound One day the Britons will return to their wits The road unearthed and the beacons relit.