"Why shouldn't I sing the anti-English Scots song Such a Parcel of Rogues in a Nation" said Jon W a long time ago, though I've only just seen the tread for the first time - surely it's not anti-English at all. It's aimed at corrupt Scottish politicians.

And Dai - "language and culture are the only things that make a Welshman different from an Englishman." I think Wales feels a lot different from England, even when you're driving through in the middle of the night or early in the morning, and everyone's in bed. The geography of a place is one of the things that affects the culture. And if you're trying to define a special quality about the English, the one that's central in my view is an ability to be silly about serious things and serious about silly things. That's why Morris Dancers are so precious.

Here's a song I wrote about Morris Dancers. And, after I'd been singing it a bit, I couldn't decide whether to envisage it as sung from an English, or an Irish (or other "imperialised" point of view) - you can read it either way. Which I'd say makes it relevant here.

The Ghost of Merry England

In the car park by the public house,
on an evening late in June,
the melodeon is ringing,
while the fiddler plays in tune,
and in between the dancers,
as they leap there in the night,
there's the Ghost of Merry England,
a-dancing with delight
So proud and still so humble,
and so comical and kind,
Such a fine happy dancer
you never again will find
We've been cheated and mistreated,
fairly knocked from off our feet,
But there's a Ghost in Merry England,
and it's dancing in the street.

And it isn't for the money,
though it might be for the beer;
and it isn't for the glory,
there isn't much of that to share,
and it might be for the friendship,
but it's mostly for the dance.
And while we've got the dancing,
well, maybe we've got a chance.
So proud and still so humble,
and so comical and kind,
such a fine happy dancer
you never again will find;
oh they turned us out,
and burned us out,
and sold us off for gold,
but there's a Ghost in Merry England,
that can keep us from the cold.

So forget your Old Britannia,
and your Union Jack and Crown,
and an Empire built on slavery,
Thank God it's tumbled down,
and forget your empty bragging,
and forget your foolish pride,
there's a Ghost in Merry England,
and it's dancing in the side.
So proud and still so humble,
and so comical and kind,
such a fine happy dancer
you never again will find;
Yes they stole the land
and hold the land,
to turn us into slaves,
but there's a Ghost in Merry England,
it'll dance upon their graves.

So proud and still so humble,
and so comical and kind,
such a fine happy dancer
you never again will find;
We've been cheated and mistreated,
fairly knocked from off our feet,
but there's a Ghost in Merry England,
and it's dancing in the street;
but there's a Ghost in Merry England,
that can keep us from the cold.
and they turned us out,
and burned us out,
and sold us off for gold,
but there's a Ghost in Merry England
that can keep us from the cold.
Yes they stole the land
and hold the land,
to turn us into slaves,
but there's a Ghost in Merry England,
it'll dance upon their graves.