The sickness seemed to grip the land, affording him his power;
From the Angel of the north down to the Bloody Tower.
A toothy grin, a pint of beer, a proper English gent;
The day that he took office was the day the ravens went.
No-one cared; they’d trod the path that some had seen before
Another little corporal of 1934.
Few knew of the legend and fewer what it meant
But being thus entrusted with the grail –
the ravens went.
