It was the coldest day of the year

But we heeded the call and came

From far and near

With our signs and our songs and our hope,

Our memories embracing

Our love for the land;

Of birdsong at day break in spring,

Or watching swifts rise on evening air,

Of the heron poised on the brook,

The dipper spotted bobbing on rocks,

The screech of the owls,

The vixens cry entangled with fox.

 

All these memories, we will not lose,

For someone’s profit and greed,

 

But we came when called

And we heeded the cry

And we will not turn back

And we will not back down.

We will not lose our wood and our field,

Where first we held hands

Or built our first dens,

Picnics on rugs,

Sleepovers in tents.

Virgin footprints on snow,

Building snowmen with friends,

Sticks and ball with the dog,

It’s our Wembley, our garden,

Our place of retreat.

 

We will not turn back

And we will not back down

We will save our place, our space,

We will save our green, our pleasant land.