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