The cattle are restless,

The saddles are floating...

The priests can not talk

as their deftly deep throating...

The barbed wire fence

painted blue with desire...

It's a sidewalk of lies

filled with hangers and wire...

And the cows don't have brains

which is why they are pricks...

It pours when it rains

which is why they know tricks.

And the cows are called home

as the sermon is ending...

The loud simply groan

as the fence begins mending..

It lasts for a while

but it won't stay forever...

They're fucked in the ass

but on Sunday it's never.

JULY 13, 2006