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Aquarius Buried Treasure Callanish S T O N E D Q U A R T Z McMac Pardon? Tattoo Camera Obscura High Creagan The West Highlander Pot Of Gold StarVoyagers Deep Breath Vulpes Vulgaris Richard |
H.M.S. Belfast Firing Range Royal Visit Crisp and Even Elizabeth Great Court S.T. Barnabas Runaway Vengence Weapon No 1 Water Trough Woolwich Ferry CloudBusting Segas Showing My Age 39 Rue Grande Nigel Knows Disco Not Cricket It Is Better Mind How You Go No Flowers Ashes to Ashes R.I.P. Feminist |
These stories, of stones That move in the night, That go walkabout In dawns first light, May seem untrue With computers new That plot the path of each insight. Printed circuit and microchip May work at phenomenal rate, But these Grey Objects, Of ancient date, Were placed precise by man Before the need of twitching counters Closed the magic gate. This barrier, stealthy creeps To blanket thoughts of man, To prise him from his ordained line, To frustrate the well laid plan That being born from Woman Return to ash and dust, Live in harmony with Nature, Live with Mother Earth in trust. I know one day my soothing voice Will calm the fearsome mink, I expect very soon the midnight sky To turn to shocking pink, I hope one day to see these Giants Stroll down to the river to drink, And hopefully, one day, I'll find That elusive missing link. |