When Barney was at school they said he’d never make the grade.
He was living in a kipper coloured dream.
Barney ought to learn to concentrate his teachers used to say,
as he drifted in the bottom bottom stream.
Barney was waster, got no bits of paper.
Ended up attending a machine,
turning little piggies into plastic packaged sausages,
to sell in the heliport canteen.

Barney seemed to lack ambition, didn’t hear tomorrow call,
didn’t want the overtime for extra pay.
He just left his limbs to labour as he donned his uniform
and his mind was floating freely far away.
Press turn screw lift, early shift and late shift.
Always the same routine.
Turning little piggies into plastic packaged sausages,
to sell in the heliport canteen.

It was on one summer’s evening Barney crossed from work to home
with a tube of twisted metal that he’d found
and he stuck it in the garden like a broken totem pole
and he planted piles of pebbles all around.
“That boy’s no use, must have a screw loose,
Thinks his bit of metal’s gonna grow.”
Barney felt the silence in his head begin to melt
and in his heart a spark of laughter seemed to glow.

Barney’s game became a passion. All the free time that he had,
he was in the garden marking out a space.
Piecing things together with devotion in his hands
and a sweet seraphic smile on his face.
Mother says “You can’t, No!” Father says “You can’t, No!
Littering our little bit of lawn.
What are we going to do with him? Why can’t he be normal?
He’s been trouble since the day that he was born.”

And every day he brought home something. He was nicking things from work.
Picking up what other people threw away.
Cans and kettles, boots and bottles,
All the refuse of the earth he assembled in a giant junk display.
Copper wire, car tyres, plastic pots and broken mops,
Worn out wheels and one old water tank.
What a silly game to play, what a waste of effort .
He’d do better if he went and robbed a bank.

Now look at Barney’s weird contraption, high on iron girder legs,
reaching steel and tin can feelers to the sky.
As it wobbles in the breezes its Belisha beacon heads
seem to nod and wink at all the passers by.
Every day he’d do a bit.
Every day it grew a bit, sprouting like a jungle in the rain.
And the neighbours watched in horror as his multi coloured monster
escaped from his loony bin brain.

But Barney’s work began to waiver. He was failing his machine.
The foreman said he wasn’t giving of his best.
And so the job enrichment expert analysed his working speed
and devised a scheme to give him added zest.
It was press turn screw lift, press turn screw lift, early shift and late shift.
Always the same routine,
but turning twice as many piggies into plastic packaged sausages
to sell in the heliport canteen.

And Barney’s folly neighed the neighbours was disfiguring the street,
and there was baying from the purity crusade.
And the careful ants informed him that the bye laws had been breached,
while the blow flies buzzed round every move he made.
Watch out Barney! Special Branch are after you.
Got you fully photographed and filed.
Officialdom is closing in. Oblivious of everything,
Barney builds as happy as a child.

Well it was on one winter’s morning, Barney worked the early shift,
when inspectors came with agents of the law.
They dismantled Barney’s monster. Dumped it on the council tip.
Left the garden neat and tidy as before.
Home comes Barney, can’t believe his eyes to see space
where his creation once held sway.
Shadows seem to fall on him, silence seems to swallow him.
Frightened Barney turns and runs away.

Now they say that Barney scavenges the scrap heaps of the town.
Doesn’t answer to his name and no one knows
why he wants to throw his life away just wandering around,
making crazy patterns everywhere he goes.
And still it’s press turn screw lift, early shift and late shift, always the same routine,
turning little piggies into plastic packaged sausages
to sell in the heliport canteen.
And it’s press turn screw lift, press turn screw lift, early shift and late shift,
other hands are working his machine
and turning twice as many piggies into plastic packaged sausages
to sell in the heliport canteen and no one knows,
why he wants to throw his life away, just wandering around,
making crazy patterns everywhere he goes.