Based On Pslams 23

Grazing the pasture as one of the smallest of the sheep,
I strive to be fed,
but the Shepard won't force us to eat,
he just watches and holds up our homestead.

I trip on a rock,
and he carries me till I'm better.
I thirst for more and look to him.
He takes us somewhere wetter.

We bleat loudly with the humid air,
but he doesn't want us lazy, so we don't rest long,
and as we begin to walk again,
he sings to us a comforting song.

We're spoiled by this, our father,
but mostly I don't see
how much this man loves us
and how much he does for me.

He even takes care of discipline,
as much as he hates to,
because he hates for us to hurt,
but he teaches us what to do.

I misbehave, and he breaks my leg,
and he carries me again.
After all these days of raising me,
he's my Shepard, my savior, my father, my friend.