I knew a wolf who dressed like sheep
with smiling eyes and hidden teeth.
Calmly through the flock he'd step.
Preaching life, and meaning death.

Once upon a dreary day,
he found a lamb who'd gone astray.
Lined with silver was his tongue,
a spectacle for one so young.

Nearly at the speed of light,
the wolf sprang forth and made his strike.
And not a sheep would hear the crunch,
of the wolf, enjoying lunch.