Inkpotamus

Can we climb the big hill, Dad?
With trails to follow far.
Can we get lost in the wood?
And wonder where we are.

Show me where the Romans sailed,
Along the River Dee.
Show me where they caught their slaves,
And tied them to that tree.

Let’s stand on rocks where Vikings stood,
And cheered the god of thunder,
Where lightning flashed above their heads,
And split that rock asunder.

Those giant windmills queuing up,
Along the Mersey shore,
Do they push the waves along?
Is that really what they’re for?

Yes, both cathedrals I can see,
In Liverpool’s skyline black,
Is there someone waving there,
To whom you’re waving back?

Those red rocks, they are made of sand,
From the time of dinosaurs,
But were the white lines made from eggs,
Crushed by their careless paws?

Is it true that every tree,
In the woodlands of the Wirral,
Grew from nuts abandoned by,
A quite forgetful squirrel?

Look now, Dad, you’ve got us lost,
Through woods we’ve walked too far,
You’ll have to phone up Mummy now,
To collect us in her car.