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 rugs and fancy rugs, And then I by 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 pants and R.M. boots That I live in night and day And that smell of sweaty horses Just doesn’t wash away. Once in 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.
Posted on: Tue, 23 Jul 2013 23:28:56 +0000
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