We should run from the wolf,
But Red Riding Hood didn't;
She cut through its forest,
Like bait in its trap,
Presumed it to be
The wolf that it's not.
We fight them, tame them,
Blame and shame them;
We'll throw others in front of them
To save our own skins.
Its golden yellow eyes
Invite you to binge.
You know it's a wolf,
Yet knowingly walk in.
Whitt-whoo, the wolf whistled,
And the lamb stroked its chin.
A fox sent her candy,
But when it was handy
She cried, Wolf!
For that's what it is:
A wolf in sheep's clothing,
Or a ram that's been dissed?