When dark market forces
appear upon the land
of an uplifting choir of voices
from within the shifting sand
and the lights appear
in pink and blue
as a baby's blanket of lamb,
to a ewe-ing and a bleating
of a heart of loyal grand...
the sheep were shorn
the horns have blown
and now they understand.
Within a cosmic cluster
of a vortex without end,
a soundless voice has whispered
to a light that shines within.
A child's rhyme repeated
over and over again.
This little piggy
cried tears of joy
we, We, Whee!
all the way Home.
We are One
we're not alone,
said the conductor
to the band.
