Copyright © 2026 https://suno.com/@mich_bergde Mike Berg All rights reserved. Yabba dabba doo… No Wi-Fi, just sky! Back in the stone age, life was clear, No emails buzzing in your ear. No alarm at six A.M., Just the sunrise saying “Hey, let's get it in.” No traffic jam, no office call, Just mammoths roaming by the wall. You grabbed your club, you had a plan, “Dinner first — then nap again.” No passwords to remember, No updates every day. If something didn’t work — You hit it anyway. Back in the stone age, simple and slow, Fire in the cave with a natural glow. No screens to scroll, no boss to praise, Just rocks and rolls in simpler days. Sure, a tiger might eat your face, But at least you weren’t stuck in a meeting space. Back in the stone age, less was more — Except for saber-tooths at the door. No profile pics carved into stone, No “leave me alone” sent by phone. If you liked someone — you made a sound, Or carved a heart into the ground. No gym, just running from a beast, Cardio done before your feast. No tax forms, no breaking news, Just “Who stole my mammoth stew?” No status updates, No viral shame. If you embarrassed yourself — No one knew your name. Back in the stone age, wild and free, Just you, your tribe, and a big old tree. No deadlines hanging in the air, Just messy hair and a bearskin chair. Yeah, hunting was rough, survival tight, But nobody doom-scrolled half the night. Back in the stone age, peace of mind — If you lost your club, you’d just find another kind. No calendar. No planner. No “Let’s circle back.” Just “Duck!” Because something with teeth is behind you - good luck. Back in the stone age, loud and proud, Grunting jokes to a laughing crowd. No stress about your data plan, Just “Is that a rock? Hey, where is my clan?” Sure, progress gave us shiny things, Cars and apps and diamond rings — But sometimes I’d trade my modern cage For a bonfire night in the stone age. Yabba dabba… breathe. No signal. Just relief.
