Lack Of Limits: Dear green place

It was by the clear Molendinar Burn Where it meets and runs with the river Clyde And they tell the tale of the holy one Who was fishing down by the riverside A holy man, from Fife he came His name they say was Kentigern And by the spot were the fish was caught The dear green place was born Now the salmon ran through the river stream And they salted them by the banks of Clyde And the faces glowed as the silver flowed The place arose by the riverside There was cloth to dye and hose to buy The traders came from miles around And they raised a glass to the dear green place The place that was a town There is a town that once was green and a river flowed to the sea The river flows forever on, but the dear green place is gone When the furnace came to fire the iron And folk were thrown from their farmland Then the irishmen and the highland men And the hungry men came with willing hands They wanted work, a place to live, their empty bellies needed filled And the farmyard was another world From the dirty overcrowded mill Now you may have heard of the foreign trade And fortunes made by tobacco lords But the working man slaved his life away And an early grave was his sole reward A dreary room, a crowded slum, disease and hunger everywhere And the price to pay was another day To fight the anger and despair A thousand years have been here and gone (it is gone) Since Kentigern saw the banks of Clyde (it is gone) How many dreams and how many tears (it is gone) In a thousand years of a city's life (it is gone) It was by the clear Molendinar Burn (it is gone) Where it meets and runs with the river Clyde (it is gone) Perhaps tomorrow it yet may be (it is gone) The dear green place again (it is gone)