The Rambling Bull
The clock ticks, the gear turns,
The world, 'tnever stops.
The rage ignites, the town burns,
The bull is in the china shop.
Thoughts arrayed, batallions formed,
The written word is strong.
Small ones brave the tempered storm,
The Majority is always wrong.
Truth dies, cowards reign,
Lady Earth is tired and worn.
The rambling bull softly dies,
No one is there to mourn.
