Progress

Go slow! It's a built-up zone! I'll say, I groan As we crawl at five miles an hour! Chug! Chug! Chug! Goes my long-suffering motor. Back to the caves, I say. You know it only seems like yesterday, When with a few friendly growls We'd sit at the doors Of our spacious caverns, Chewing the fat and kebabs From wild pig or dinosaur, Laughing at that guy, Joe Over there on his heels Fiddling around With some round things He called wheels. It'll never take on, we'd roar. To be fair it was more like Grunt, grunt grunt. Well, you don't want words When you hunt all day. Quieter the better, I'd say. What on earth you gonna use it for? We'd jeer. How wrong we were. Yes, how wrong we were, As I cried damn as I sat out another long jam Into the City centre, Dreaming wistfully of yesteryear!