E.K. Cole was a merry old soul, and a merry old soul was he.
He built him a lab on Cowbridge Hill for whiz-kids (S.-G.-C.)
Now every chap had a jolly good scheme (and a jolly good scheme had he),
A-doing his nut in the radar hut in ancient Malmesbury.
The airline types are up there, somewhere, fumbling through the murk,
We've a skittles match at the Railway fixed but the radar just won't work.
We know the reason why of course, it's all so plain to see,
So much to do, and all by Hugh, in vibrant Malmesbury.
The advance of radar science has been really most unkind.
Our only big equipment now is stuck in the behind
Of Valiants, Victors, Vulcans (P1 got cut off short).
The best place they could put the set after the test report.
For Gibby's structure fell apart; it really wasn't fair
To let it get as warm as that and shake it in the air.
Now Len is sweating day and night to get his spine fixed in;
The arguments and alloys used were really far too thin.
Oh fill the guides with concrete, and mix in iron dust,
(The scanner won't affect results for all the power's gone first.)
Just start again from scratch, my lads, beware a large delay,
If we don't finish on the dot, someone will have to pay.
The days of royal contracts have quite gone for good, we fear.
For luxuries now over, we shed a bitter tear.
For half a million eighty-eights we sing our mournful lay,
(T.V, plastics, VHF, how we must rue the day.)
A C-band mixer Vickers want, to check on Viscount noses.
We've done it all before you know, so this no problem poses.
Alack, alas, we gave no thought; the "tower" built the box,
And nothing's any good until approved by V. J. Cox.
Ken Coppin had a bicycle chain (a motor-cyclist he)
To drive his patent tool controls with gusto and with glee.
But up rose you-know-who (alas) who gave a mighty bawl
"A rolling mill drive is the thing, that ruddy chain's too small."
The smell of something really strong (a brand new mix perhaps)
Comes wafting from the potting shed (transformer boys, poor chaps).
But every bod was in very fine form, in fact completely tight -
Preserved for umpteen thousand years, encased in Araldite.
