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Far away across the galaxy, a billion light years hence,
A startled Betelgeusian became extremely tense.
‘Twas in the Scientific Hall, a dark and gloomy place
Where astronomic instruments are trained on Outer Space.
They pinpoint radiation and they pinpoint sound as well,
And they’ve even got an “odourscope” designed to pinpoint smell.
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This startled Space Observer had been diagnosing sound,
When suddenly he threw his leather headphones to the ground.
And as he gently rubbed his ears, the other scientists
Looked up at him quite quizzically and stopped preparing lists.
“I heard it,” he moaned abstractedly, “I heard a massive roar
Emanating somewhere near the edge of Sector Four.”
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Well, they scrambled all the light machines, and sent them with great haste
Towards the source of that great roar across the vacuumed waste.
And then they made a cup of tea and stretched their arms and waited
Until the Sound Investigators had investigated.
And after nearly fifteen years, the Head of Phonics brought
The long-awaited copy of the “Massive Roar” report.
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The roar had been produced upon a little spinning planet,
Composed of mainly, H Two O and silicone and granite.
And on this largely liquid world, a greenish island lay,
Its population watching telly on that fateful day.
And they all roared in unison, the Head of Phonics said,
When an alien called Houghton headed over Shilton’s head.