when hunters stalked with sling and stone and spear,
a curse that would leave modern man aghast
existed: there was no such thing as beer.
How primitive their lives, without a balm
to salve their apeish brains back at the cave!
No golden brew to make the savage calm,
nor help the fearful brute stand straight and brave!
Was Mankind's progress founded on the dream
of some magic elixir he might drink?
Were boozy bubbles topped with heady cream
the font of Evolution? Makes you think.
A toast then, to the race that tamed the beast
with bigger brains, hops, water, malt and yeast.
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