In the night, as the world sleeps, I stand guard over the sheep.
A thankless task, keeping the wolves at bay, so that each morning the sheep can play.
Many a night, the rain comes down. Many other nights, there is no sound.
And still I stand, guarding the sheep, all while the world sleeps.
There are some nights, when the moon is right, the wolves plot their attack.
On those nights, I sense the fright, and wait silently for the pack.
Their attack is quite brutal, they crave the taste of blood.
Though it's over quickly, the fight is very violent as I fend off each one.
The fires are lit and burning, they encircle all the sheep.
But the wolves are pacing just beyond, hungry for the meat.
Many times through the night, they try to break the ring.
And every time I fend them off, make them feel my sting.
They finally stop attacking, as the dawn slowly breaks.
Unaware of what had happened here, the sheep begin to wake.
A new day begins, and I can rest, as my watch comes to an end.
But come the evening, as the world sleeps, I will stand guard over the sheep.