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In ancient times,
Hundreds of years before the dawn of history
Lived a strange race of people, the Druids
No one knows who they were or what they were doing
But their legacy remains
Hewn into the living rock, of Stonehenge
Stonehenge! Where the demons dwell
Where the banshees live and they do live well
Stonehenge! Where a man's a man
And the children dance to the Pipes of Pan
Hey!
Stonehenge! 'Tis a magic place
Where the moon doth rise with a dragon's face
Stonehenge! Where the virgins lie
And the prayers of devils fill the midnight sky
And you my love, won't you take my hand?
We'll go back in time to that mystic land
Where the dew drops cry and the cats meow
I will take you there, I will show you how
Oh!
And oh how they danced
The little children of Stonehenge
Beneath the haunted moon
For fear that daybreak might come too soon
And where are they now?
The little people of Stonehenge
And what would they say to us?
If we were here, tonight

'Stonehenge' by Spinal Tap


Bobbi Flekman: You put a *greased naked woman* on all fours with a dog collar around her neck, and a leash, and a man's arm extended out up to here, holding onto the leash, and pushing a black glove in her face to sniff it. You don't find that offensive? You don't find that sexist?
Ian Faith: This is *1982*, Bobbi, c'mon!
Bobbi Flekman: That's *right*, it's 1982! Get out of the '60s. We don't have this mentality anymore.
Ian Faith: Well, you should have seen the cover they *wanted* to do! It wasn't a glove, believe me.

Nigel Tufnel: You can't really dust for vomit.

David St. Hubbins: He died in a bizarre gardening accident...
Nigel Tufnel: Authorities said... best leave it... unsolved.

Nigel Tufnel: [about the back-stage buffet] Look, this. This miniature  bread, it like... I've been working with this now for about half an hour and I can't figure out... let's say I wanted a bite, right. You got this...
Ian Faith: You'd like bigger bread?
Nigel Tufnel: Exactly. I don't under stand how...
Ian Faith: [gestures to the meat] You could just fold this... though.
Nigel Tufnel: [folding the bread] Well, no... then it's half the size...
Ian Faith: No, not the bread.
[folding the meat]
Ian Faith: You could fold the meat...
Nigel Tufnel: [still folding the bread] Yeah, but then it breaks up. It breaks apart like this...
Ian Faith: [putting the folded meat onto the miniture bread] No, no, no... you put it on the bread like this; see?
Nigel Tufnel: [folding the miniture sandwich] But if you keep folding it, then it keeps breaking...
Ian Faith: Why would you keep folding it?
Nigel Tufnel: ...and then everything has to be folded... and then you have
[holds up miniture sandwich]
Nigel Tufnel: ... this. And I don't want this. I want large bread, so I can put this...
[puts meat between two pieces of miniature bread]
Nigel Tufnel: ... so then it's like this. But this doesn't work, because then it's all...
Ian Faith: Because it hangs out like that?
Nigel Tufnel: Look! would you be holding this?
Ian Faith: No. I wouldn't want to eat...
Nigel Tufnel: No! Alright, A. Exhibit, exhibit A.
[throws down miniture sandwich]
Nigel Tufnel: And now we move onto this...
[picks up an olive]
Nigel Tufnel: Look, look; who's in here? No one.
[picks up an olive stuffed with pimento]
Nigel Tufnel: And in here, there's a little guy, look! So, it's a complete catastrophe!
Ian Faith: Alright, Nigel, Nigel... calm down...
Nigel Tufnel: Look... no, it's no big deal, It's a joke... it's really... it's a joke.
Ian Faith: I'm sorry, it's just some prat at university, you know? I really... I don't want it to affect your performance.
Nigel Tufnel: It's not going to affect my performance, don't worry about that. I just hate it... it really, it does disturb me, but I'll rise above it; I'm a professional.

[Nigel, introducing the Stonehenge theme concert]
Nigel Tufnel: In ancient times, hundreds of years before the dawn of history, an ancient race of people... the Druids. No one knows who they were or what they were doing...
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'No one knows who they were or what they were doing...' Painting

Philip Leister

Painting, Acrylic on Canvas

Size: 36 W x 72 H x 1.5 D in

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About The Artwork

In ancient times, Hundreds of years before the dawn of history Lived a strange race of people, the Druids No one knows who they were or what they were doing But their legacy remains Hewn into the living rock, of Stonehenge Stonehenge! Where the demons dwell Where the banshees live and they do live well Stonehenge! Where a man's a man And the children dance to the Pipes of Pan Hey! Stonehenge! 'Tis a magic place Where the moon doth rise with a dragon's face Stonehenge! Where the virgins lie And the prayers of devils fill the midnight sky And you my love, won't you take my hand? We'll go back in time to that mystic land Where the dew drops cry and the cats meow I will take you there, I will show you how Oh! And oh how they danced The little children of Stonehenge Beneath the haunted moon For fear that daybreak might come too soon And where are they now? The little people of Stonehenge And what would they say to us? If we were here, tonight 'Stonehenge' by Spinal Tap Bobbi Flekman: You put a *greased naked woman* on all fours with a dog collar around her neck, and a leash, and a man's arm extended out up to here, holding onto the leash, and pushing a black glove in her face to sniff it. You don't find that offensive? You don't find that sexist? Ian Faith: This is *1982*, Bobbi, c'mon! Bobbi Flekman: That's *right*, it's 1982! Get out of the '60s. We don't have this mentality anymore. Ian Faith: Well, you should have seen the cover they *wanted* to do! It wasn't a glove, believe me. Nigel Tufnel: You can't really dust for vomit. David St. Hubbins: He died in a bizarre gardening accident... Nigel Tufnel: Authorities said... best leave it... unsolved. Nigel Tufnel: [about the back-stage buffet] Look, this. This miniature bread, it like... I've been working with this now for about half an hour and I can't figure out... let's say I wanted a bite, right. You got this... Ian Faith: You'd like bigger bread? Nigel Tufnel: Exactly. I don't under stand how... Ian Faith: [gestures to the meat] You could just fold this... though. Nigel Tufnel: [folding the bread] Well, no... then it's half the size... Ian Faith: No, not the bread. [folding the meat] Ian Faith: You could fold the meat... Nigel Tufnel: [still folding the bread] Yeah, but then it breaks up. It breaks apart like this... Ian Faith: [putting the folded meat onto the miniture bread] No, no, no... you put it on the bread like this; see? Nigel Tufnel: [folding the miniture sandwich] But if you keep folding it, then it keeps breaking... Ian Faith: Why would you keep folding it? Nigel Tufnel: ...and then everything has to be folded... and then you have [holds up miniture sandwich] Nigel Tufnel: ... this. And I don't want this. I want large bread, so I can put this... [puts meat between two pieces of miniature bread] Nigel Tufnel: ... so then it's like this. But this doesn't work, because then it's all... Ian Faith: Because it hangs out like that? Nigel Tufnel: Look! would you be holding this? Ian Faith: No. I wouldn't want to eat... Nigel Tufnel: No! Alright, A. Exhibit, exhibit A. [throws down miniture sandwich] Nigel Tufnel: And now we move onto this... [picks up an olive] Nigel Tufnel: Look, look; who's in here? No one. [picks up an olive stuffed with pimento] Nigel Tufnel: And in here, there's a little guy, look! So, it's a complete catastrophe! Ian Faith: Alright, Nigel, Nigel... calm down... Nigel Tufnel: Look... no, it's no big deal, It's a joke... it's really... it's a joke. Ian Faith: I'm sorry, it's just some prat at university, you know? I really... I don't want it to affect your performance. Nigel Tufnel: It's not going to affect my performance, don't worry about that. I just hate it... it really, it does disturb me, but I'll rise above it; I'm a professional. [Nigel, introducing the Stonehenge theme concert] Nigel Tufnel: In ancient times, hundreds of years before the dawn of history, an ancient race of people... the Druids. No one knows who they were or what they were doing...

Details & Dimensions

Painting:Acrylic on Canvas

Original:One-of-a-kind Artwork

Size:36 W x 72 H x 1.5 D in

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I’m (I am?) a self-taught artist, originally from the north suburbs of Chicago (also known as John Hughes' America). Born in 1984, I started painting in 2017 and began to take it somewhat seriously in 2019. I currently reside in rural Montana and live a secluded life with my three dogs - Pebbles (a.k.a. Jaws, Brandy, Fang), Bam Bam (a.k.a. Scrat, Dinki-Di, Trash Panda, Dug), and Mystique (a.k.a. Lady), and five cats - Burglekutt (a.k.a. Ghostmouse Makah), Vohnkar! (a.k.a. Storm Shadow, Grogu), Falkor (a.k.a. Moro, The Mummy's Kryptonite, Wendigo, BFC), Nibbler (a.k.a. Cobblepot), and Meegosh (a.k.a. Lenny). Part of the preface to the 'Complete Works of Emily Dickinson helps sum me up as a person and an artist: "The verses of Emily Dickinson belong emphatically to what Emerson long since called ‘the Poetry of the Portfolio,’ something produced absolutely without the thought of publication, and solely by way of expression of the writer's own mind. Such verse must inevitably forfeit whatever advantage lies in the discipline of public criticism and the enforced conformity to accepted ways. On the other hand, it may often gain something through the habit of freedom and unconventional utterance of daring thoughts. In the case of the present author, there was no choice in the matter; she must write thus, or not at all. A recluse by temperament and habit, literally spending years without settling her foot beyond the doorstep, and many more years during which her walks were strictly limited to her father's grounds, she habitually concealed her mind, like her person, from all but a few friends; and it was with great difficulty that she was persuaded to print during her lifetime, three or four poems. Yet she wrote verses in great abundance; and though brought curiosity indifferent to all conventional rules, had yet a rigorous literary standard of her own, and often altered a word many times to suit an ear which had its own tenacious fastidiousness." -Thomas Wentworth Higginson "Not bad... you say this is your first lesson?" "Yes, but my father was an *art collector*, so…"

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