Oggwool Fleece

In England's pleasant pastures amid the free wild flowers
Lie pagan ways the wise ones do not mock
And one adept at harnessing these ancient rural powers
Is Oggwool Fleece, the black sheep of the flock

Oggwool is old, much older than the old oak it is said
Beneath whose boughs the dark sheep's plans are sealed
'Twas said the sheep had come back from the other side of dead
With the darkness in that corner of the field.

The farm hands better know to venture in the oak's strange shade
Or to the long grass that the darkness gripped
Where Oggwool lurks amid the spells and potions he has made
A sheep unshorn and magically undipped.

Unlimited by four hooves in working his deft skill
Unhindering ambitious sheepish plans
Harnessing the dark elves to do his dark sheep will
Dexterously with little dark elf hands.

From that darkened corner of that English country field
His influence extends itself worldwide
An arcane woolly web through which his mystic powers wield
Spreading out beyond the countryside

He has extensive vineyards in Italy and Spain,
He has mining operations in Peru
He owns a flock of ostriches down in the Ukraine
(Although he never quite intended to)

He's engineering world events on scales beyond the ken
He has his hooves in business of all kinds
He interferes remorselessly in world affairs of men
With night-time thoughts drip-fed to human minds

Little green men fly through space in saucers flat and round
On interstellar missions without cease
But on their furthest journey yet, their enterprise is bound
To the ever growing plans of Oggwool Fleece

The politicians spin their words and armies shoulder arms
And yet do not beyond their small acts see
But Oggwool Fleece with thistle skills and other sheepwise charms
Is planning how to rule a galaxy!