A Song for the Gathering by Matthew Edwards

It was on one February evening when frost lay all around,
I walked through Stony Statford, as snow fell to the ground.
I was seeking for a 'Cat house, some contentment for to find,
And music, joy, and laughter to ease my lonely mind.

I called in at the House of York, and there it did me please
To hear sounds of voices singing in sweetest harmonies.
The ale was freely flowing; with glasses raised on high
The Mudcatters were drinking to the one and only Dai.

So fill your glasses to the brim, and let us make a toast
To that scion of statistics, our gentle bard and host.
And if you're tired of wandering along old Watling Street,
Call at the Cock Inn, or the Bull, where music and friends meet.