Vanderbuyst The Butcher's Knife
Their hands ain't tied, free to run, but they don't move a wink They don't know where to go, forgotten how to think Pavlov's dogs on hind legs waiting for a sign One by one they march into the sheperd's fire
Sheep without wool Are heading for The butcher's knife
A pedigree of sinners and saints follows as he sways A piece of bread and a mug of wine to bleat another day Goats are friends, birds ok, pigs are enemies Cause of the mother of mothers' shame siters have to bleed