Ten thousand years ago, when ice fled north And water set Albion adrift once more The land turned to emerald; great oaks burst forth And took their place, united as Sherwood It once was said these woods were home To outlaws roaming free of feudal bonds Hunters dwelling amongst the trees And refuge sought beneath their fronds A place of solace Our ancient forest Then men carved at the woods, 'til little remained Memories and spirits harshly cast away Now only a remnant holds against the blight Yet maybe it will prevail, once we are dead and gone