There's a rumour that there are lions in snowdonia If you hop skip bump, you can make them jump There's a rumour about to start that loch ness was an import It travelled from the sea via sky and air
It tried to battle with the mountains But they burst its heart and it bled into a hole Apparently there's a mist in a wood somewhere It never leaves even in the arid sun
Its purpose is to get noticed And to moisten the imagination The lichen and the moss took a liking to it It hangs beneath the willow who shouldn't really be there
This is no place for a weeper
There's a brook that you can drink from It's supposed to make you wealthy But if all else fails It'll make you healthy It'll charm you healthy
