A troglodyte once sang this ditty:
"I hate this place, it's just not pretty.
It's dark, it's damp, there's too much smoke,
the air's enough to make you choke.
The walls are grimy limestone, an' it
would be far better done in granite.
When day comes I become a stoic
and live the paleo life (it's zoic).
At first I hunt, and then I gather,
but Art is what I'd really rather
leave future folks, I know they’ll rave
about the paintings in this cave..”
The troglodyte soon found some ochre,
and then made charcoal in a smoker.
Where one smooth limestone patch was clear
he drew a mammoth, elk, and deer,
a herd of bison, and a horse,
a long-horned aurochs full of force.
And from that day the troglodyte
knew only joy, and love, and light.
He found contentment when he'd gaze
at artwork through the smoky haze.
That pioneer, the first of all
who posted pictures on his wall.