The labourers toiled, the craftsmen wrought,
The Draftsmen drew, the thinkers thought,
The planners planned, the salesmen sold,
But the bikes they sold looked very old.
Thats not to say they were not fine,
But ancient was the whole design.
The buyers paid their hard-earned gold -
For new machines that looked like old.
Designers sat and wracked their brains,
And got rude answers for their pains.
The things they drew were not too bold,
With ideas that were centuries old,
The stylist and the artist came
And still the drawings looked the same.
The conception lacked that final touch
Of which the keen demand so much.
Just then there came that way by chance
A lad who knew he could enhance
The models' looks and make them go
If only they would let him show.
He was taken at his word, and then
Got out his papers, books and pen.
Set down his ideas, plans and thought
He'd told them all, and kept back nought.
"Oh that won't work, nor that" they cried
As new ideas were made and tried.
Or when they did, the critics say
"We thought of that before today"
"That one's no good" they said in test,
"The ancient ones were always best".
They were so clever with their tricks, They ousted him with politics.
gefunden und ohne Erlaubnis kopiert auf der Seite http://www.southsiders-mc.blogspot.com
nett wie ich finde
schön Gruß
Björn