My ancestors lived in Doggerland, Doggerland, drowned by the sea.
They hunted deer and mastodon in the cool Mesolithic climes,
And nighttime fires, tended with care, marked out their borderlines.
On the land they never called Doggerland, Doggerland under the sea
In Doggerland they lived, not knowing England, not knowing France.
They wore warm furs and hats of straw but, probably, seldom pants.
Such was the life in Doggerland, Doggerland under the sea.