Our dear humble cowherd stumbles back to his shed,

Our dear humble cowherd stumbles back to his shed,
fuzzy, but fighting the voice in his head.
It says, "sing sing sing sing-"
"-But what of, God?"

And what of God, who bids him sing of a creation
of the minds of men?
He could, then, sing of many things, anything...

And what does God want with this creation,
this creature he couldn't be bothered to
give a singing voice?