Wednesday, October 8, 2008


Why do I like horses? I reckon I must be mad.
My mother wasn't horsey And neither was my dad.

But the madness hit me early And it hit me like a curse.
And I've never gotten better In fact I've gotten worse.

My stables are immaculate. My house is like a hovel.
Last year for my birthday I got a brand new shovel.

I hardly read a paper But I know who's sold their horse
And I wouldn't watch the news If Mr. Ed was on, of course.

One eye's always on the heavens But my washing waves in vain
As I rush to get the horses in In case it's gonna rain.

And though they're wearing 15 rugs, The best that you can get,
I bring them in to keep them dry While I get soaking wet.

I spend up every cent I've got On horsey stuff for sure.
I buy fancy tack and fancy rugs, And then I buy some more.

I should have had that hair cut Or bought that nice blue shirt
At least it wouldn't be now Ripped to shreds and in the dirt.

I can't make a bloody sponge cake I don't even try
But I can back a car and trailer In the twinkling of an eye.

It's jeans and Ariat boots That I live in night and day
And that smell of sweaty horses Just doesn't wash away.

Once every… now and then I can dress up for a ball.
Make up and a hairdo With high heel shoes and all.

I ache from long forgotten falls. My knees have got no skin.
My toes have gone a funny shape. From being squashed again.

But late at night, when all is still And I've gone to give them hay,
I touch their velvet softness And my worries float away.

They give a gentle nicker And they nuzzle through my hair
And I know it's where my heart is More than anywhere

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