There's a rumour that there are lions in snowdonia   If you hop skip bump, you can make them jump   There's a rumour about to start that loch ness was an import   It travelled from the sea via sky and air      It tried to battle with the mountains   But they burst its heart and it bled into a hole   Apparently there's a mist in a wood somewhere   It never leaves even in the arid sun      Its purpose is to get noticed   And to moisten the imagination   The lichen and the moss took a liking to it   It hangs beneath the willow who shouldn't really be there      This is no place for a weeper      There's a brook that you can drink from   It's supposed to make you wealthy   But if all else fails   It'll make you healthy   It'll charm you healthy