The zebra senses something's wrong
Looks over his back
All he sees
The stripes of his, all black and white
And a patch of tall grass swaying in the wind
He missed the lioness
Obscured by grass he sees too late
When the zebra sees her it's too late
She jumps out
And he's on his back
And she's got his neck!
In an open field he could have run
If not that then kicked her away
But she used her wit, concealed herself
Poor dude
He never even had a chance
He won't be running now
Throat's ripped out, inside of her mouth
A ruthless death for foolishness
A lesson taught while gnawing on his head
One more Zebra approaches the lakeside
Looking for shade in the baobab trees
She sets herself up
This time amongst the clay
Patience perfected, breath held, waits
His hairs are tingling now
Water's calm in can't be the wind
But he looks the wrong way
Opens a blindside
Condemns himself
Submits his flesh for taste
♪
Bad day to be a Zebra!