There's—definitely
an eagle
in me—deep
down—
in the pit
of my
abominable soul—
And he likes
nothing more
than to feast
upon lambs!—
but oddly enough
there's also
a little
room for—a man;
one who
prefers
his lamb—ground
into neat
and perfectly
spiced sides of sausage—by the tools
and the hands
of some whole
other man—ideally one
who'd himself
just as
soon rather
eat a more ethical
mess—of terrible
bird eggs for his breakfast!