A man tries to work his hoe
But the ground is made of clay
No matter how hard he tries
The ground just won't give way
The man is very determined
To break through this ground
The more he tries, the more he's vexed
It's a lot harder, now, he's found
The man keeps toiling, day and night
Until sweat pours from his brow
There's got to be a way to do this
He just can't figure out how
Now he's chopping at the clay
with his very overworked hoe
Working it to it's (and his) very limit
Until "SNAP"! as he watches the head go
No dirt, no soil, no plants to grow
His hoe finally given way
He puts his head down in his hands
He's grown to rue this day