Thomas had a little lamb. 

One eve I visited the fallen,

what sights there were to see.

A festival of geisha,

with merriment from beyond the sea.

 

The eve was full of wonders,

foods from beyond the seas,

a dancer with curious veil,

whos movements, designed to please.

 

But lo, the eve had its dangers,

 blood was soon to be spilled.

A sheep was led to be slaughtered,

A prize for the one who killed.

 

A brave Scott called Tom was present,

know how Scotts feel for sheep. :P

Tom a brave warrior, battle hardened,

a lambs death twas cause to weep.

 

A plan to save its life was hatched,

the villans he would distract,

the sheeps leash he would unlatch,

That is how a Scot would act.

 

 Oh, who would slay this fearsom beast,

upon whos body the crowd would feast.

or would Tom save it from it's  plight,

snatched away into the night.

 

Oh who would slay this fearsom beast,

the first missed. Sheep are quick.

A knight stepped up to slay the beast,

brandishing a walking stick?

 

The knight raised his weapon high,

Fickle fate reared its head,

Down the fearsom weapon fell!

But low, struck Tom instead.

  

Brave Tom was struck upon the head,

the blow mighty, the club broke

and many thought brave Tom was dead.

a sad end for a fine bloke.

 

The camp did come to give him aid,

leeches were called just in case.

But Scots heads are strong indeed,

a healthy scoul upon his face.

  

For there was such a great need

Chiurgeons arrived to tend brave Tom,

Coming with upon a fearsome steed,

Prodding, mending with much aplom.

 

 Twas bandaged and told not to sleep.

The leeching done, about our bill,  (turn out pockets)

"thas' a fine lookin sheep"

I know just the want it will fill.

  

They say Legends are now told,

of  Toms sheep gut condoms,

Like from days of old

to Scot guard against the plague.