Flag-Bearers

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I'm a stranger here myself Washed up on the shore many centuries before Just a mongrel like yourself: part gypsy, part hun An itinerant son from God knows where We are all of us strangers Sometimes my bed is somewhere else Asleep on the floor of a distant shore Where though there may be nothing on the shelf I'm welcomed despite the disgrace of my forefathers Welcomed despite the behaviour of flag-bearers The rose, the thistle, the shamrock, the daffodil Borne on the wind across mountain and ocean Until self-seeding randomly, thriving untended Native by accident, falling where happenstance falls We are all of us strangers Ours is a green and pleasant land Built on rich fertile soil and physical toil But I see no blisters on your hands Yet you call yourself English, well bully for you Is that a medal of honour or a badly drawn bulldog tattoo? The rose, the thistle, the shamrock, the daffodil Borne on the wind across mountain and ocean Until self-seeding randomly, thriving untended Native by accident, falling where happenstance falls We are all of us strangers