I don't own Cornwall, Wales, Mid-North, Copper Coast, Song of Australia, Bro Goth Agan Tasow (in any language), or Hetalia.

Cornwall had discovered, quite by chance, that his newly-found children didn't actually know his national anthem. Given how Cornish they purported to be most of the time, this was obviously a grievous oversight, and he had appealed to Wales to help sort the matter out.

"So these are your children, are they, Cornwall?" Wales asked, looking at the two small personified regions currently sitting squished in a single armchair in his office. "And what are you called?"

"I'm Kernow Bichan," Kernow Bichan replied immediately. "He's Map Kernow."

"Kernow Bichan, is it?" Wales smiled, looking over at Cornwall. "Very imaginative of you."

"It wasn't my idea," Cornwall replied. "And that's rich, coming from someone who named his daughter 'colony'."

"It's pronounced 'Gladfa'," Wales told him. "Now, do you two know who I am?"

Kernow Bichan shook her head, but Map Kernow nodded slowly, and risked a glance over at his father. "It's Cymru, isn't it? I remember Cymru."

"You do?" Cornwall asked in surprise.

"Yeah!" Map Kernow nodded. "You came to visit once, remember, Uncle Cymru? Only once, not as much as Uncle Scotland, but you named all the streets in Llychwr."

"I can vaguely recall that," Wales nodded. "Now, your father tells me you don't know how to sing."

"We know how to sing!" Kernow Bichan protested. "We know lots of songs, don't we, Jack?"

"Lots," Map Kernow agreed.

"Well, what's the most patriotic song you know?" Wales enquired.

"Hmm..." Map Kernow considered for a moment, and Kernow Bichan leant over to whisper something in his ear. "I know that!" he scolded her.

Kernow Bichan shrugged, giggling, and settled back in the seat as the pair started singing. "There is a land where summer skies are gleaming with a thousand flies, blending in witching harmonies... in harmonies!"

Wales held up a hand, cutting off the fairly decent harmony they slipped into just there. "Well, they can sing, Cornwall," he told the smaller Celtic nation.

"Yes, but they can't sing the national anthem," Cornwall replied. "I think they should."

"Can you sing the national anthem?" Wales asked the two.

They both nodded, making faces. "Song of Australia is better," Map Kernow announced. "I don't like this Australians all, let us rejoice thing. The tune's not a great as Song of Australia."

"Do you know this one?" Wales asked. "Mae hen wlad fy nhadau yn annwyl i mi... Gwlad beirdd a chantorion, enwogion o fri..."

The two regions shook their heads, although Kernow Bichan showed a glimpse of understanding. She tilted her head. "That doesn't sound right."

"She's right!" Cornwall exclaimed. "You're right, Bichan! The words aren't right. He's singing in Welsh."

"Well, he is Wales," Map Kernow pointed out.

"Yes, yes," Cornwall nodded, "But I want you to sing in Cornish."

"Jack can't speak Cornish," Kernow Bichan announced.

"Can so!" Map Kernow exclaimed.

"Cannot!" Kernow Bichan shot back.

"Can so!"

"Cannot!"

"Colonies, colonies!" Cornwall held up his hands. "Stop shouting at each other."

"But he can't, daddy," Kernow Bichan told him. "Jack speaks better German than he does Kernewek."

"That's not true!" Map Kernow protested.

"Is so!" Kernow Bichan exclaimed.

"Well, maybe," Map Kernow allowed. "But that's not my fault! And it's not like you speak brilliant Kernewek, either."

"Better than you!" Kernow Bichan nodded firmly. "I have signage."

"Well, then, you'll both be able to learn the words," Cornwall told them, cutting in. "Come on. Bro goth agan tasow, dha flehes a'th kar... Gwlas ker an howlsedhes, pan vro yw dha bar? War oll an norvys 'th on ni skollyn a-les, mes agan kerensa yw dhis."

Kernow Bichan giggled. "It's so weird that you're singing about yourself," she noted.

"Well, do you know the chorus?" Wales asked.

The two little regions nodded, and joined in with their father, belting out the first two words, each taking it to mean himself.

"Kernow! Kernow! Y keryn Kernow! An mor hedre vo yn fod dhis a-dro, 'th on onan hag oll rag Kernow!"

Llychwr is a suburb of Burra, originally settled by a Swansea-based mining company who named all the streets after towns in south-west Wales – Llwchwr is the name of the town in Wales after which the suburb is named.

"There is a land where summer skies" is The Song of Australia, which was South Australia's choice for a national anthem, having been written in 1859. Unfortunately, it was never sung much outside South Australia, so the final vote resulted in Advance Australia Fair. The second line is actually "dyes", not "flies", but singing "flies" is so much more amusing (and accurate).

Bro Goth Agan Tasow is the official Cornish anthem according to Gorseth Kernow, although Trelawny is definitely more popular at sporting matches (rather like Waltzing Matilda). It has an identical tune and very similar words to the Welsh and Breton anthems, Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau and Bro Gozh Ma Zadoù respectively.

The Mid-North has a fair amount of German heritage and settlement, too; but Copper Coast, like she says, has patchy signage in Cornish around some of the tourist sites.