The heather will fade and the bracken will die
Streams will run cold and clear.
And the small birds will be going,
And it's then that you will be knowing
That the Terror Time is near.
Where will you turn now and where will you bide
Now that the work's all done?
For the farmer doesn't need you
And the Council will not heed you,
And the Terror Time has come.
The woods give no shelter, and the trees are all bare
Snow's falling all around.
And the children they are crying
For the bed on which they are lying
Is frozen to the ground.
The frost won't lift and the stove won't draw,
There's ice in the water churn,
In the mud and snow you're sloshing
Trying to do your bit of washing
And the kindling won't burn.
When you need the warmth of your own human kind,
You pull near a town, but then
They say, the sight of you's offending,
And the police they are sending...
And you're on the road again.
The heather will fade and the bracken will die
Streams will run cold and clear.
And the small birds will be going,
And it's then that you will be knowing
That the Terror Time is near.
