Текст песни Hands of the Craftsman - David Harley

Minutes ago as God measures time
Something manlike emerged from primordial slime
Ever since, Mother Nature has been on the run
From a hand with four fingers and opposable thumb
That hand learned to grip, then it learned to shape
Flint into a weapon, then a tool to shape
To build and to kill, and around then it learned
To strike sparks to bring fire and lighten man's world

The hands of the craftsman have moulded our world
From the first stone axe to the first steam drill
To the harvester, laser, and silicon chip
But the hands of the craftsman are losing their grip

The years roll on swift with the birth of the wheel
Man learned to work bronze, then iron and steel
The bow drill, the pole lathe, the compass, the lock
The lens, the sextant, the lantern, the clock
Castings and mouldings, extrusions and pressings
The bandsaw, the dropforge, the milling machine
The tools and the skills have changed through the centuries
The crafts and the knowledge, but seldom the dreams

The builder could turn his hand to most trades
Masonry, joinery, plumbing and all
The engineer trained on a score of machines
Now it's often just one - he's in luck if it's more
Modularization's the name of the game
It means that they put you on just one machine
One or two operations on just the one part
It's efficient, but de-skilling's what it means

One day we're skilled men, the next, operators
The next, no-one knows if we'll be there at all
The art passes into the programmer's hands
Tomorrow, machines will service themselves
The glazier, the bellfounder, printers and knappers
Dyers and weavers, some are already lost
Prefabrication will see out the tiler
As the thatcher before him learned to his cost

The paviour, the saddler, the cooper, the wheelwright
Fitters and grinders and turners and smiths
We all take our turn in the pattern of process
And one by one, we're taking our leave