The moaning bleater feels so strong
When its bravery leads its mean inclination
To let its bladder proudly go
On genuine attempts to understanding
For spreading rumours gives the beast
A chance to dump its loads of disappointments
On the fetid pile of resentments
He quietly built about the world

Creeping gossips feeds the worms
Whatever the race, whatever the age
Bleat the lambs, blab the shrews
Take up the flock of sheep
Bah bah black sheep

The lamb can't mask its nature
It always barks in second
Its funny face tries to mime the tiger's
When the time has come to drop its mask
It's crying out for vengeance
It spits its sick and venomous spite
Tittle-tattle change the sheep
To fierce vultures, to cawing crows