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
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