The patterns of the speech are free for all

The absolute distinction of our tongues
As if a boundary is a metal wall
That idealised separation must be wrong

As we near the edges of our land
The patterns of the speech are free for all
No absolute distinction of the tongues

Before the printing press and written songs
There was no “correct” way for us to call
That perfect separation must be wrong

To bind the bunch of wanderers we’re among
A “received” pronunciation’s forced on all
An absolute distinction of each tongue.

In government and schools the force is strong
In older dialects we cannot wail.
That perfect separation must be wrong

The rulers and their powerful codes   prevail
Their employees write out books in great detail
The absolute destruction of broad tongues,
Like  forceful  separation, is  still wrong