[verse]
All the scribes were shouting in despair,
How can books be printed if no quill is there?
The printing presses the life out of the words
Why should books be owned by anyone in the world?
[chorus]
They claimed it on. through and through,
That’s so mechanic, not an art for true.
This machine is blasphemy and sin,
Beyond this gate, only true craftsmen are seen.
[verse]
A knitting frame? This madness is so gloom
Tell all the luddites no more loom. just doom
Don’t fabricate fabric with metal and steam
Who’d wear this garment? A shame for the seam
[chorus]
They claimed it on. through and through,
That’s so mechanic, not an art for true.
This machine is blasphemy and sin,
Beyond this gate, only true craftsmen are seen.
[verse]
When came the camera, stilling the light
Painters shook with anger, a photo! is not right.
That’s not art, it’s just a lifeless machine,
Only artisans’ hands can present the scene! (as seen!)
[chorus]
They claimed it on. through and through,
That’s so mechanic, not an art for true.
This machine is blasphemy and sin,
Beyond this gate, only true craftsmen are seen.
[verse]
A phonograph? A talking disc? Who ever heard such noise?
Record it all, and what is left for the real voice?
This sound is second-rate, it tricks the ear, deceives the mind.
If you want real culture, book a show, the human kind!
[chorus]
They claimed it on. through and through,
That’s so mechanic, not an art for true.
This machine is blasphemy and sin,
Beyond this gate, only true craftsmen are seen.
[verse]
Ideas came daily, but he lacked the tools to try,
No access to an archive, no studio nearby.
Then editing software became available to all,
And suddenly imagination could grow with no stall.
[chorus]
They claimed it on. through and through,
That’s so mechanic, not an art for true.
This machine is blasphemy and sin,
Beyond this gate, only true craftsmen are seen.
[verse]
Verses sparked and rhythms formed in quiet, hidden streams,
When the AI was born, he finally freed his dreams.
The chains that held ideas, dissolved without a trace.
A wide horizon opened, endless thoughts to chase.
[Bridge]
So is this not a form of art?
Is everything too mechanical and lack of heart?
Ohhh… these helpers, to be fair…
lift women and men
Who once couldn’t dare…
but Today… they all can!
[chorus]
So They claimed it . Doesn’t mean it true,
That’s still art, through and through!
a Machine is a tool to reveal the unseen,
The gates are openned, always have been
