I can feel it in my blood that I belong to this strange and stony rock I stand upon yet I cannot put a name upon it I cannot place the time nor see the land as it once was nor tell which house was mine no I cannot put a name upon it which was where and when yet here I am a perfect stranger home again.

If high stream of dreams and truth be told and our intentions be entwined then from these high flung tower walls let healing grace and blessings fall over all this cracked and broken land from northern crag to southern down from Universal Hall to Camden town from city square to village green from parliament to housing scheme from Iona to the the Hill of Dreams I sacrifice my power on the altar of your love that it may be born again on another world.