The Fleecing

Deep green hills whose shoulders fade
Into thick grey, tall wet grass
Whose flesh makes fools of grazing sheep,
Whose fleecing makes a fool of me.

Who shall I blame
For this sweet and heavy trouble,
For every stupid struggle?
I don't know!
I could buy you a drink
I could tell you all about it
I could tell you why I doubt it
And why I still believe!

But I can't say it like I sing it,
I can't sing it like I think it
I can't think like I feel it
And I don't feel a thing!
Oh no, I don't feel it!

Who shall I blame
For this sweet and heavy trouble,
For every stupid struggle?
I don't know!
I could buy you a drink
I could tell you all about it
I could tell you why I doubt it
And why I still believe!
Why I still believe it
And I'm grieving,
And what for years I could not see!
We'd have more drinks,
We would speak of so many things
But I don't know you and you don't know me!