The victor has come

For every time the hand was held
For every second the hand was left
It has been a memory of days gone by
And day’s yet to come.
A prophesy from infant mouths.

The twirl of the finger into the hollow tree
The whisper of whiskers of a cats meow
The broken cup from a human hand
The sigh of a donkey’s back.

Wave the green flag, wave it high
There among the clouds he has sung
The music revels, the music pounds
Among the shelter of angelic crowns
Sigh of holiness. Signs of joy
A gladness resounding, within a world of rejoice

There among people long gone past
And among nations wiped clean of lands
The knots of strings of lyres and hands
Have formed the future and the midlands

Arise oh nation, arise oh child
The battle is over
The victor has come.