It’s a new day in the Shires
And the sun seems to be shining
Just a tiny wee bit brighter
Than before

It’s a new day in the Shires
And the Gamekeeper is tired
Of all the traps and guns and wires
In the Shires
Of his making

In the Shires
The Farmer shrugs and rubs his back
And throws a pebble at the skies
Where the crows are spotting grubs
Admires his handiwork

A hundred million fields
Of rotting crops and wires
He wants the games to stop

Behind the spires
The sun is rising
On another day, a new day
And just seems to be
A teeny little wee bit brighter
Than it has ever appeared before
In the Shires