Beautiful megaliths all in a circle,
The royal recumbent lies still.
The wide, the tall, the big, the small,
These are the Stones of the Ages.
Blood and sweat cover the hands,
The hands that dug the holes.
The shallow, the deep, all willing to keep
Magnificent Stones of the Ages.
Farmers sit on the recumbent, the lying down stone,
To watch the sun and the moon.
The tired, the dreary, the wet and the weary,
Sit on the Stones of the Ages.
It's strange you may think, that the old still stand,
While the new all sink.
The why, the how, I'm telling you now, no-one knows,
For these are the Stones of the Ages.
by Simon Brand