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If I Could Have A Word With God
If I could have a word with god, I'd ask a lot of stuff
I'd ask whether a woolly fleece was adequate enough
And if a wolf would give up if his mouth was full of fluff
I'd ask him, her or it (perhaps) if it would be a strain
To give a little sheepie just a bit more in the brain
So he would have the sense to not stand too long in the rain
And then I'd ask about the soul and if a sheepie shared
Whatever benefits it had and why two-leggies cared
Or whether it was all a con from which the sheep were spared
Then I'd ask about the start and where it all began
And what he really thought about the strange two-leggied man
And just where little sheepies fitted in the masterplan
And then I'd ask him what's the deal with these two-leggy wars
And why they need involve the beasts who wander on all fours
For soldiiers all have arms and hands and never just four paws
And then I'd ask the big one, as a little sheepie poet,
Whether the all-powerful had considered that the parrots
Were really suitable to be the only rhyme for carrots
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