From Stonehenge to Silbury hill, I'm proud to be pagan. I shall do whatever I will, As long as I can. And I'm wishing no-one ill, Not even the Pope, But I'll take my share till I have my fill, Just like Julian H. Cope.
From Brittany to South-West Cornwall, I'm proud to be pagan. The stones are standing still, They’re a shelter to the orphan. I've heard the new druids call, Saying it's Beltane soon Let’s drink to the Celtic revival Beneath the bright April moon.
From the towers of London the busy To the windswept isle of Man, I know it's not always as easy As it seems to be pagan. I have met Sanders and Gardner In sky-clad assemblies, If you've got a pagan partner, You've got the best of remedies.