Earthen. You make that up?
The General could almost enjoy it.
Nothing so invigorating as a wrangle
With a fanatical idealist
And this one was certainly a humdinger.
But behind his eyes was the picture
Of thousands of trembling fingers
On buttons, throttles and triggers
Waiting for his command.
So you want us all to farm with stone tools.
Eat raw vegetables and fish!
Live in mud huts, or caves maybe.
No, that's going backwards, said the Chairman.
Well, you're darn tootin' it's -
The General gulped, frowning.
What did this youngster mean anyway?
Never mind the grey hair and the eye pouches.
He had sons as old as this new-fangled
Farmer-politician whipper-snapper!
Okay, let him finish his song.
We were never in caves or not for very long.
We never stood still and we don't now-
Not our feet, our hands or our brains.
But we can make life here not just tolerable
But as pleasant as the Earthen's.
And without sacrificing our energies
Or our creativity!