Why Stonehenge never got finished
The Chieftan called us all together
Three hundred or more big strong men,
“Now here’s a great idea,” he said
“For BC two thousand and ten.
I’m going to build a monument,
The biggest in the land.
What’s it going to be used for?
Well, you’ll never understand.
It could be a sort of calendar,
Or a place to worship the sun,
Perhaps an early disco
Where we’ll dance and have lots of fun.”
“I’m going to build it here,” he said
“In Wiltshire, on Salisbury Plain,
I think I’ll call it Stonehenge,
“That seems an appropriate name”.
I could have told him he was wasting his time,
The idea would never work,
But I knew he’d never listen to me
Once he’d got this funny quirk.
He planned to have some circles
Made of enormous stones,
And outside these were a number of holes,
Some containing bones.
The stones weighed 25 tons each,
The blue ones came from Wales,
And we were supposed to fetch them by boat
Battered by autumn gales.
No wonder we had problems
Right from the very start,
The foreman drove us relentlessly,
We said “Come on, have a heart”.
The building work suddenly came to a halt
When we all went down with ‘flu,
The Chieftan nearly lost his rag
But there was nothing we could do.
And then it rained for days and days,
It couldn’t have got much worse,
And so we decided to go on strike
Until we had waterproof furs.
Our next door neighbour down the road
Was Edrich, our local bard,
He said “You can build your wretched pile
But not in my back yard.”
The problems just came thick and fast,
It wasn’t very funny,
We had to stop again quite soon,
When the Chief ran out of money.
Then the unfriendly tribe from over the hill
Decided to attack us,
So we had to stop work to defend ourselves,
They really meant to whack us.
Our suppliers next stopped delivering stones,
They said that they were sorry,
We’d have to wait at least two weeks
While they mended their broken-down lorry.
We really worked our guts out
Piling stones one on top of another,
Our youngest lad just burst into tears, said
“I want to go home to my mother”.
Then one day an odd looking fellow turned up,
With bowler, umbrella and file,
He tapped his pen against his teeth
And watched us for a while.
“You may have big ideas,” he said
“And think you’ve got a mission,
But you can’t build that there monstrosity here
Not without planning permission.”
The Chieftan put his head in his hands
“I just give up,” said he,
And so we left it as it was
And went home for our tea.