God, being in the shepherd business Himself,
Always gives His earthly colleagues the scoop
On the really important stuff
“Let My People Go”
“Psst ... use the sling on the big guy ”
“It’s a Boy”
So don’t tell me my daily cup wasn’t divinely ordained
See, there was this shepherd
Keeping watch over his flock by night
Drowsing as he counted sleepless sheep
Who, refusing to lie down in green pastures,
Ate of strange fruit
And thus passed the wee hours
Bleating earnestly about everything in general
And nothing in particular
So was discovered
The burning-the-midnight-oil bush
Bearing the fruit of everlasting wakefulness
And at its heart, the seed of the knowledge
Of regular
(Good)
And decaf
(Evil)
And the good tidings spread
To all the world
Especially to Jamaica
And Hawaii
And Sumatra
And the faithful brought forth fruit
(Hand-picked by Juan Valdez)
So that all we like sheep
Are either restoring our souls
As our cup runneth over
(From the shakes)
Or seriously
Desperately
And most of all, crankily
Jonesing