When the world was younger
And things lasted for longer
There were several children on their way
They paused by the brook
And lazily they looked
At the workers in the fields making hay
Some did not to continue
When the rest of their retinue
Journeyed home for repast
And their youthful curiosity
Knew not what the cost would be
Of helping the workers in their task
That was the beginning
Of all of those songs you've been singing
That was the start
Of your incessant craving for Art
For Art
When the sun was setting
And the children saw it was getting
Too dark to enjoy their activity
They bade farewell to the workers
And planned to head homewards
But the they found themselves angrily encircled
The workers did not
Want to be left to their lot
And so blocked the free passage of youth
And so not wanting to fight
The children worked through the night
And became acquainted with the truth
That was the beginning
Of all of those songs you've been singing
That was the start
Of your incessant craving for art
Language grew rough and instructional
Actions became swift and functional
Muscles and sinews grew hard
Dominating head and heart
And so the world grew older
And Man became ever bolder
And still now to this day
Children out walking
Are inevitably lured in
By the sight of workers making hay