the wolf devised an evil dodge
he'd wear the clothes of sheep
and under this cruel camouflage
into their herd, he'd creep
well, not sheep's clothes, you understand
but merely in their skin
and some of these he had on hand
from erstwhile times of sin
and so the wolf disguised his looks
so proud he was of this
then wandered through the hills and brooks
in his unruthlessness
the sheep herd hardly stirred at all
this cunning strategist
had slithered, wriggled, crept and crawled
into their peaceful midst
his eyes fell on the fattest sheep
his tongue awash with drool
his legs prepared to make the leap
his teeth the killing tool
the night was broken by a scream
that echoed far and wide
a nightmare interrupts the dreams
of quiet countryside
the rancher and his wife, divine
have dinner here tonight
he says " i really love the wine...
but this mutton don't taste right"
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