Mood: 
Do you not recognize who’s jumping on top of that fence while you count 1, 2, 3? It is I, the fluffy white furred sheep. I leap to your desires to reach the land of dreams. My four legs are ever so joyous in the voyage from the spring of my hooves to your fall; into the soft embrace of your sweet, sweet cushion. It is I, the sheep. I am to thank for the beginning of your journey in another world where nothing can be touched by reality. So give me gratitude, for I have no ability to count myself. Cursed be my gift of giving slumber. My generosity betrays me of the one thing I crave for the most. Sleep; beautiful, wonderful, magical sleep.
Do you not recognize who’s jumping on top of that fence while you count 1, 2, 3? It is I, the fluffy white furred sheep. I leap to your desires to reach the land of dreams. My four legs are ever so joyous in the voyage from the spring of my hooves to your fall; into the soft embrace of your sweet, sweet cushion. It is I, the sheep. I am to thank for the beginning of your journey in another world where nothing can be touched by reality. So give me gratitude, for I have no ability to count myself. Cursed be my gift of giving slumber. My generosity betrays me of the one thing I crave for the most. Sleep; beautiful, wonderful, magical sleep.
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