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'''Title: Stones (Lyrics)'''

'''Author: Gwenno'''
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Long ago ran the sun on 
a folk who had a dream
And the heart and the 
will and the power:

They moved earth; they 
carved stone; moulded hill 
and channeled stream
That we might stand on 
the wide plains of 
Wiltshire.

Now men asked who they 
were, how they built and 
wonder why
That they wrought 
standing stones of such 
size.

What was done 'neath 
our shade? What was 
pray'ed 'neath our skies
As we stood on the wyrd 
plains of Wiltshire.

Oh what secrets we could 
tell if you'd listen and be 
still.

Rid the stink and the 
noise from our skirts.
But you haven't got the 
clue and perhaps you 
never will.

Mute we stand on the 
cold plains of Wiltshire.

Still we loom in the 
mists as the ages roll 
away.

And we say of our folk, 
"they are here!"

That they built us and 
they died and you'll not 
be knowing why.

Save we stand on the 
bare plains of Wiltshire. 


[[Category:Poetry and Song]]