Who Sold The Book?

Once a small boy came up to his Father
Asking the question him to bother,
'Where can we find, Daddy, on what pages
What we should do to be good?'
Down came the grave voice filling the study,
'Long time ago there lived Somebody
He was as wise as Seven Sages
His home was heart of the wood

He knew where soft sunbeams were running
When thunderclaps approached stunning
He knew the song of every martlet
He knew dreams of the Tide
Once he made up his mind to mould
Of all that he knew one single whole
He bound a Book adorned with a starlet
And hid the World inside

He gave up one page to every being
One page to every thought and feeling
One page to every nature's wonder -
A million pages it took
He brought the Book to the people's bower
So that they'd use its Magic Power
But asked one thing to avoid blunder -
Never to sell the Book

The Sun changed the Moon, but life's not forever
The Man found his rest high up in Heaven
His Sacred Book was left with the people
For many centuries more
Turnin' its pages grew into a habit
But they forgot what it was aimed at
They whipped away the piety wimple -
Memory's short when you have no core

As time went by they found it needless
Just a passing glance at it was hideous
They sought the means to get rid of it
And the one who seeks finds a way
Two evil hands held out a coin,
'Dime for the Book' - 'Deal' - hands to join
Heaven got by the storm-clouds folded
There came another Day

Trees lost their blossom under poison
The wall painted blood has hid horizon
Wars seized the Planet, Hate took the Soul
With bombs set off here and there
Dry tears of those who lost their homes
And of the diseased terrific moans
A walk in the dollar rain's a goal -
That's our fair share...'

The small boy was sittin' still by his Father
And deep in their thoughts they looked at each other
And bitter tears were rolling down the boy's cheeks
Through weeping a whisper came,
'But how can I mend the Book of Planet
And hide far so that no one could sell it
Protect it from someone else's mean tricks
With whom should I share the blame?'

Father again laid aside his Sunday,
'You're part of this Sacred Volume, Sonny
And it was waiting through the ages
For your coming in this World
You live your life the way you feel it
But always follow your kindly spirit
And don't do harm to other pages
Then your life will cost for gold!'

The Boy lived his life without snivel
Paid Good for Good, and Good for Evil
Melted the ice of spiteful stare
With his soft, tender look
But from time to time when the night seemed endless
He would give way to his deep sadness
Gaze at the skies and rend the air
Asking, 'Who sold the Book?'

Mmm, who sold the Book...