Four Seasons: Part Two

My little lamb is no more, have no fear Having tast’d blood, it no longer suckles Sharing a bottle of wine here or there Sometimes, an exchange of fists and knuckles Acceptability is the watchword It’s a time of identification Sharing bonds that exclude strife and discord To attain wholesome unification The jugular is slit, blood flows without Oaths are taken to acquire kinship A curse is the end result of a flout A parting bequest from the fellowship This is a good time for songs and dances This is the moment to take life’s chances