Mean While Back On The Ranch

We gather the sheep for shearing, only those who hate the taste, of a fast woolly sheep are fired. Like every thing else on the ranch, they can be turned into some thing else, at the flip of a verb, or a noun, Injected premeditatedly my lisps, an inflection of you. They bleat yes, in the heat..four feet tied, Talking so gentlemanly like. Other wise yes, you would be some of that to, The sun hides the face deep within the it's sombrero. It has only water on the brain, being thirsty so what. Sitting in the shade, we the rest, some being allergic, to wool, wait ever patiently for the next truck to arrive These now once again, cool of skin will be taken to the river, that flows through the ranch, and given bread and wine to drink. This is it, your ranch, will you help me carry that wool over there? ...howdy and thank you ma am, din't catch the name.