UntuitionHard to follow

A foreigner in your nativity

And every time you toot my horn
I don my hooves
My face goes red
Clop, clop, into the room, I’ll saunter

Make a bargain, call it sin
Faustian debt letters in your bin
A barn erected, wood, not tin
A man never born, of woman who never…

And merry that they were
Around other goats thereafter
Joyous as they were
Up in the rafters