The Fleecing

deep green hills whose shoulders fade into thick grey

tall wet grass whose flesh makes fools of grazing sheep

whose fleecing makes a fool of me

who shall i blame for this sweet and heavy trouble

for every stupid struggle i don't know

i could buy you a drink

i could tell you all about it

i could tell you why i doubt it and why i still believe

i can't say it like i sing it

i can't sing it like i think it

i can't think like i feel it

and i don't feel a thing

...why i still believe it

why i need it

and what the pharisees can't see

we'd have more drinks

and speak of so many things

but i don't know you and you don't know me