Mooin’ are my cows each afternoon;
eatin’s what they want and want it soon.

The get pissed when it’s only hay they’re gettin’;
they are so onery that I am frettin’.
I hope they will not attack me while they are
chewin’ on their cuds—yuck stomachs goo.
Puking. Do they upchuck five times too?

There are troubles when you run a dairy;
in fact sometimes, things can get quite hairy.
You run a risk each time you pull a teat when
movin’ milk from udders…gotta do.
Mooin’, cudders, as if yellin’ at you.
Moo, moo, moo, moo!

One day they get sick of fressing their hay,
gang up on me in a threatening way.
I see them coming closer, and I pray
that they’ll just threaten me—with whey they wetten me.

Oozin’ down my back, into my shoes,
liquid that is forming a shoe slough…
slosh, slosh, slosh, slosh.
Scootin’ from cud-munch bunch.