The bull

The bull browsed the green of fields, of silence
Of heightened awareness, the following of others ignorance
He played poker on the hoof, stayed aloof, cried on que
Danced in the puddle, in the middle, wearing a tuxedo, black tie and suit of blue.

The bull,   didn't know the difference, his hay said hey and his thoughts cried for horns
As big as the back of his neck. Yet he stood all alone, while his siblings giggled with scorn
At the tiny protruding, the absolutely, field, in which he cried all alone
And then he made a decision, he'd cut the grass, he'd swipe the flies, he'd never be over thrown

The bull, he would take control of the pride , within him, and the part of his destiny
He'd build his habitat amongst the fields and habitat amongst the machine gun fire and the ratatat
Don't you see, the bull shit a pie inside his newest creation he called
Government amongst his conquests, he was the strongest amongst the hurd, he'd die before he'd fall.

The bull, the mighty beast. The presidential, no longer the inconsequential
King of his empire. Horns protruding. Absolouting. Something Royal, someone special
He bacame the beauty of that green of fields, his tuxedo black tie and blue
Just embrace the story we've tried to tell, the bulls in the each of you.