Let me tell you a wee story
about some words in a tin
from a school near a park
seeds planted into the light
patterns away from the dark
A Life Sentence, let it begin.

Back then we didn't have much
but the means to the ends
began with a tin of words
then some milk for the celebral
reinforced with text to touch
from a Gilmour Street temple.

Always words of love and never hate
only to borrow and never change
then to lay them back down
to recite, reuse and rearrange
for semantic drifters, dreamers
beyond the old Vale Library gates.

Feed those tins forever
firewall food for thought
expert nutrition for the mind
As comrades of old once sang
keep the libraries wide open
and know yourself Mankind.

Chorus:
Back then we didn't have much
but the means to the ends
began never forget
with a tin of words.