I'm a Freelander

I am first and foremost a proud-born Freelander
I’m made from the great city Storth by the Silver Lake
Where Midland rivers stream and meander
Running ‘cross united yet independent lands
Toiled by many others just like me
I’m a Freelander and here I am free
I’m a Freelander

I was raised in the shadow of mighty Red Willow
The druids there taught me how to read and write
Mountains of knowledge stored in the roots’ flow
To learn from Freelands history’s best and worst
I’m but one of many students of that fine tree
I’m from Red Willow and here I am free
I’m a Freelander

I gained my sea legs just out by Oxenshore
I drove the stakes that made the largest port
Feats of engineering and shipyards galore
Gathering sailing ships from all around the globe
Life on the docks is hard but filled with glee
I’m from Oxenshore and here I am free
I’m a Freelander

I fired my first musket in ol’ Southerland
Smelled of black powder as I lit my fuse
Drank ale with companions of aure brand
Sung tales of heroes who fought in foreign lands
I’m proud of my heritage from northern sea
I’m a Southerlander and here I am free
I’m a Freelander

I have built many windmills on rolling Haverhill
Pushed one too many carts on rough terrain
Carrying sackloads of wheat to the mill
From granaries painted in colors of the spring
Number one in farming technology
I’m from Haverhill and here I am free
I’m a Freelander

I always wave to the corpses that hang along Old Route
Wish they could tell me ‘bout all the passersby
Imagine the stories the damned could sprout
Swinging in the wind on the crossroads bound
If I must hang here I wan’ hang from a tree
I’m from Old Route and here I am free
I’m a Freelander

I’ve encountered much foul weather in Stormwatch
Strong winds and rain made me a stronger man
While downing buckets of even stronger scotch
Stumbling my way over wind blown rocks
Besides the raging tempest there’s not much to see
I’m a Stormwatcher and here I am free
I’m a Freelander

I’ve established independence in the Cold Marshes
Broke away from warmer mires Grey
Proud to be training Freelands’ special forces
Through roughest wetlands our soldiers march on
Our boots are weathered and filled with debris
I’m a Colmarsher and here I am free
I’m a Freelander

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Tavern song turned national anthem of the Freelands, with one verse for every state (WIP).