Lyrics
(Verse 1 - Folk ballad rhythm with fingerpicking guitar)
Fields of green, a timeless scene, life moved slow and steady,
Horse and plow, that's all we knew, a world so quaint, already.
Then came a spark, a change in the dark, a rumble in the ground,
A revolution, a new solution, a new and booming sound.
(Chorus - Tempo picks up, percussion and harmonica join in)
The Industrial Age, a turning page, machines began to hum,
Steam and steel, progress revealed, a future yet to come.
Factories tall, casting shadows all, smoke filled the morning air,
Cities grew, with work to do, a burden some would bear.
(Verse 2 - Tempo slows slightly, melody becomes more melancholic)
Coal mines deep, where shadows creep, men toiled with pick and sweat,
Building tracks, on iron backs, a world we won't forget.
Looms that weave, a tireless cleave, women's hands so quick,
Cloth unfurled, for all the world, a change both strong and slick.
(Chorus - Tempo increases again, instruments become more prominent)
The Industrial Age, a turning page, machines began to hum,
Steam and steel, progress revealed, a future yet to come.
Factories tall, casting shadows all, smoke filled the morning air,
Cities grew, with work to do, a burden some would bear.
(Bridge - Banjo joins in, creating a more urgent feel)
But progress comes, at beating drums, a price for what we make,
The land grew black, the skies turned back, a heavy toll to take.
Childish hands, in factory lands, innocence misplaced,
A double-edged sword, forever heard, a cost we can't erase.
(Chorus - Tempo reaches its peak, instruments build to a powerful climax)
The Industrial Age, a turning page, machines began to hum,
Steam and steel, progress revealed, a future yet to come.
Factories tall, casting shadows all, smoke filled the morning air,
Cities grew, with work to do, a burden some would bear.
(Outro - Tempo slows, instruments fade out one by one, leaving just the fingerpicking guitar)
The gears still turn, the lessons learned, a legacy we hold,
The rise of might, in day and night, a story to be told.
The Industrial Age, a future's cage, both darkness and bright light,
We built a world, forever hurled, into the modern night.
(Chorus 2 - Tempo increases, instruments become more prominent, with a driving beat)
The factory floor, a relentless roar, a symphony of clang,
Sweat and grime, a relentless climb, for a future hard-won bang.
Progress marched on, a relentless song, gears turning night and day,
But at what cost, a question tossed, as the smoke choked the bay.
(Bridge - Banjo joins in, creating a more urgent feel)
But progress comes, at beating drums, a price for what we make,
The land grew black, the skies turned back, a heavy toll to take.
Childish hands, in factory lands, innocence misplaced,
A double-edged sword, forever heard, a cost we can't erase.
(Chorus 3 - Tempo slows slightly, melody becomes more mournful)
The children's eyes, filled with tired sighs, a stolen innocence,
Small hands that toil, on oily soil, a future lost, a heavy sentence.
The price of progress, a bitter excess, lungs choked with coal dust's blight,
A shadowed land, a heavy hand, a cost we pay through night.
(Outro - Tempo slows, instruments fade out one by one, leaving just the fingerpicking guitar)
The gears still turn, the lessons learned, a legacy we hold,
The rise of might, in day and night, a story to be told.
The Industrial Age, a future's cage, both darkness and bright light,
We built a world, forever hurled, into the modern night.
