I       It happened upon the misty morn,
       In the years and days of old,
       When the frailest of women
       Approached the village well,
       Or so the story is told

She spied a man
Who was adding to the well,
Instead of taking
As others had done

So she hesitated not
To throw sticks and stones,
And to sound the alarm
she did run

Because everyone knew
Of the value of water,
Of polluting their source
They said no

II    Now the years and days of old
      Are forgotten by so many,
      TV's and radios and newspapers today
      Seem to focus on the more and plenty

More of this and more of that
They say is the way to go
And once again the man is back
To tamper with our life-giving flow

Selling industry's waste
As a boon to our health
Has now become the American way
Of course!

Who will repel the intruder
And sound the alarm
And be sure the others to tell
To remain every day the vigilant
And the true Keeper of the Well?