The Life of Livestock

Two faces to each sheep
and neither one sees through
their dead kin's hide
to the wolf inside

Seems to me that they're
losing their edge in this
world made for man;
seems to me they're ready
for eatin'

It's almost like
they try to be fickle
fraught with gluttony
stuffing two faces with grass

S'good for feastin' though,
dumb old sheep make
for delectible meals
when the farmer looks away

Dumb old two faced sheep...
can't even sell their soul
to the highest bidder,
just hand it right over

Soul's aint worth it though,
shame really,
soul's covered in cotton
don't mean a damn thing

I hear if you collect enough,
and fry 'em real good
you might just start a potluck;
seven bowls poured from Heaven

I hope they drown,
those damn sheep,
in the stewpot
they wrought for themselves

'Cause we cattle'll all be branded,
yessir,
so that farmer'll know we're his
and then we'll get corraled in some new range

But hey now,
let's be real honest;
we're all gonna be hamburger
before that big soupy end

so let's all just enjoy being livestock,
and graze with two faces on the grass.

-mine