The west side of the Pennines is more stark
We drove from Leeds to Shropshire by the Peak
Although the snow was whitethe night was dark
From Buxton into Cheshire it was bleak
In the darkest season days are short
The sun had sunk before we reached a town
I preferred old Kent in summer caught
The burning stubble where old cliffs went down
The brightest day the burning fire the light
The darkest afternoon on spiteful hills
Turning into blackness in the night
What is the puzzling is the human will.
We lead our cozy lives in timid towns
Danger is enticing, risk the crown
How my heart sings 