The Moran

THE MORAN Dreadlocks running down his shoulders So red to pass for a bloodbath But traditional beauty veins deep My brother the great Moran His eyes black with strange look Not fear but ready to strike His white teeth gives bright smile My brother the great Moran Too strong to carry loads and kill Black strong arms ready to crush Broad dark haired chest indeed healthy My brother the great Moran Up high they jump across the air Brown traditionally beautified legs Keep off track lest they pass for metal rods My brother the great Moran The white beaded shield always at arm The long spear his weapon his hunt The lion smell him the deer he feast on My brother the great Moran Its not bedtime don’t query the sheets They make his clothing hide his nakedness Two birds with one stone, they serve purpose at night My brother the great Moran