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Once upon an olden time and in a far off land
A castle stood above a town, mysterious and grand
Though locals spoke about the place, down in the town below
‘Twas gossip and just rumours, for the townsfolk didn’t know.

But in that towering castle, kept away from mortal men
A vampire count lived peacefully and did not bother them
For he was not inclined to all the usual vampire labours
And did not think it sociable to snack upon the neighbours.
Instead, so that the villagers enjoyed a peaceful sleep,
The count would, nightly, drink his fill from off the local sheep.

But many plans gang aft agley, as Burns chose to remark
And so it was one fateful night of strangeness after dark
A poacher out at midnight looking upwards saw on high
A swarm of woolly bats which flew across the moonlit sky.

Perhaps there’s rules to say how large a vampire flock must be
Though why they waited till that night is still a mystery.
But seeking blood those vampire sheep in bat form took to flight
Descending on the sleepy town en masse that fateful night. 
The flock of woolly bats came while the village was asleep,
To land at bedroom windows, where they changed back into sheep.

Awaking sleeping villagers with sounds of breaking glass
As sheep fell into bedrooms seeking something more than grass
And broke the night so quiet before with terror and with screams
As nightmare sheep intruded on more normal night time dreams.

The lady mayor awoke to find a very puzzled ewe
Trying to discover what a vampire sheep should do
Whilst other villagers elsewhere likewise woke and saw
The vampire sheep discovering their own most vital flaw
The local population was afflicted by a flood
Of dentally deficient sheep attempting to draw blood.

Evolution plays cruel tricks to shape what ought to be
And vampire sheep are not designed to draw blood dentally
For all their woolly vampire ways, it still has to be said
No canine teeth have ever grown inside a woolly head
It’s on this taxonomic point that vampire future hangs
To draw blood most effectively you need well pointed fangs.

But, nothing daunted, still those sheep did not think beneath
Their vampire failure to the fault of blunt grass chewing teeth
Deciding that perhaps sheepkind would offer better yields
The vampire flock with one accord all headed for the fields
Where came the first rays of the dawn to end this chilling rhyme
And killed the vampire sheep from hell, who could not tell the time.
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