Sleep Sheep

When you are ninety degrees under the sun. You run and

you run to catch up, it's making you numb. You're a little

bit confused and the people who tread on you lightly are the ones,

the ones in the news. Sleep sheep, one, two,

three. You're sliding into the minds we keep. In your anonymous

shell you hide from the tolling bell. In your pursuits under the sun,

you struggle to get out of this hell. Sleep sheep, one,

two, three. You're sliding into the minds we keep.