When our father left we were alone
Living on this planet with no home
Existential dread became the rage
The dining table made familial stage
Once he was in heaven then came to earth
On Salisbury plain the sheep displayed much mirth
In the field of Parliament Hill we saw
Sheep could safely graze until the war.
Did they have a shepherd, was it Christ?
Now we have no metaphors,no taste.
Now sheep are made machines they do not graze
The battery hens are clockwork in disgrace
Our father haha ba he is not here.
I think I’d rather drown myself in beer
How my heart sings 