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So what if we have built Jerusalem?

and the legacy of time is lost?

How fantasy conceived,

that those feet,

in ancient times,

had walked upon these paths,

but we have neither grasped his sword of love,

nor bore his staff.

Here that city now stands tall,

with graffitied walls,

barbed wire and broken glass,

no chariot of fire, nor bow of burning gold,

but just a tattered, smouldering flag to hold;

for with our conceited hands,

We have built our Jerusalem,

on England’s proud and desolate land.

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