The
small Wee
Singing
loudly in the market place
Of
pottery wares, drinks and worrying faces
Making
through the minds of the ordinary
The
small wee
He
struggles to get his bearing
The
microphone in his hands
He
tries hard to garner support
He
sings bad about others
He
dares not say about his own
He
keeps it out of ordinary eyes
The
big elephant he fails to see
Yes...the
small Wee
The
big stick hits him hard on his head
He
jumps up trying to please his lord
He
never sings about the big elephant
He
runs to the North
He
tries his way singing his songs
He
wants to stay relevant
Digging
deep into a tunnel
He
gets the Dalmation spots
The
demon marks his shirt
The
small Wee doesn't see it
He
thinks he does it for his lord
The
small Wee
The
time has come to hide away
The
ordinary folks know the truth
He
doesn't have to sing anymore
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