Here's my first attempt at a transcription, Wolfgang. I hope it will irritate someone into doing a better job.

Bede weeps as his children do
Trying hard to show a calm where there's not any
The summer is for a chosen few
Winter lasts for ever for the many

And the green that he knew is a rusty brown now
Nothing grows around here
Bede weeps for the dry parched land
Feels the

[Break in my recording]

Once we were the mighty land
Maybe they could start it over and do better
But the wind blows all day
Saying more's the fool you
For to think that they could

Bede weeps for what might have been
In the streets that run with waste and (of?) burnt-out metal
It seeps out from poison seed (seal?)
Feeding fires that come and go but never settle

If just one could stand high and say we'll take no more
But their will's been broken
So Bede weeps, Bede weeps, Bede weeps

HTML line breaks added. --JoeClone, 25-Mar-02.