Three thousand years before Christ was a child, England was beautiful, young and wild. There were people, forests and rivers there, And the magic stones hung in the air.
The people who brought them were strong and brave, And under these stones they found their graves. Where did they come from? Where did they go? Who were those people? We'll never know.
Was it a temple? An ancient god's house? Was it a compass for friends from the stars? They built it five thousand years ago, But why did they do it? We'll never know.
Now those days are gone and the people are gone, But the midsummer sunrise still shines on the stone And the midwinter sunset still comes with the rain, And Stonehenge greets them on Salisbury Plain.