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Rated: E · Poetry · Animal · #2222167
I organize a cow band.
Once when I was up around Wisconsin way,
I organized a band of cows so they could play.
Music their ambition be it old or new,
plus they had a rhythm that transcended moo.

Now my cows, play in a travelin’ band.
They think that it’s grand, no more farmer’s hand,
cows in a travelin’ band.

Once we had a gig a little south of Des Moines,
where I asked some local cows if they would join.
To this day the town folk all remember it well,
when a happy heifer played a mean cowbell.

And my cows, play in a travelin’ band.
We see the demand, all across the land,
cows in a travelin’ band.

When we travel back roads we rely on John Deere,
they may give off gas yet it is I who steer.
Then with need to trespass Old McDonald’s farm,
I merely have them turn on bovine charm.

For my cows, play in a travelin’ band.
They often expand, right where they stand,
cows in a travelin’ band.

Finally we made it out to Hollywood,
having played the fairs and concerts best we could.
But when passing a field with alfalfa sprouts,
it became the cow‘s new favorite whereabouts.

Now my cows, graze in a travelin’ band.
We think that it’s grand, each and every strand,
cows in a cud-chewing band.

28 Lines
Writer’s Cramp Winner

Link to:
Cows in a Travelin’ Band  (E)
The cows of music.
#2209891 by Teargen

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