I see angels hanging from the trees I hear psalms of kings through poetry I make moments out of everything It feels so warm when I am dreaming Where England's gates are always swinging Through fountains joy is ringing Hillside towns and empty dales Are whispering the winsome tales of William Blake True love is an art form Temptation is its partner When I swing you round the chandeliers We laugh at all life's problems Where church bells ring out loudly And people smile so proudly For nature and its romance Or supernatural circumstance and William Blake William Blake sitting in the garden William Blake no familiar jargon Willam Blake dreaming in the theatre William Blake don't forget the paint dear The monarchy is getting old And bonfires of books are burning coal Imagination's faltering At night we here the soldiers marching Well England's pubs are thinning out And station guards are staring down From chimney tops and cold gray towers War has come and we need William Blake William Blake sitting in the garden William Blake no familiar jargon William Blake laughing at the unknown William Blake recites another poem William Blake dreaming in the theatre William Blake don't forget the paint dear William Blake sitting in the garden William Blake no familiar jargon