The Sheep
The sheep
The sheep are asleep
Their breathing is deep
Into their pen the wolves will all creep
They shake and they shiver
From crown down to liver
As they pull ammunition out of their quiver
Their aim is held high
Their shots go down low
And some poor sheep expires with each blow
The fluff is no armor
And they have no valor
The sheep are asleep
But they shiver like cowards
The cable is shouting
The internet pouting
The circuits of information are rerouting
The sheep are asleep
The poor sleeping sheep
Contentedly snoring while all the wolves creep
And among the sheep
They penetrate deep
The wolves are not ever
Seen while asleep
Asleep like the sheep
The frightened old sheep
The path that they've chosen
Keeps faculties frozen
And means that they never have to be arosin'
They're sheep
copyright (C) 2012 christopher w neal all rights reserved
