Suddenly I have no appetite for milk and cheese,
I find myself awaking, screaming “Papa, no more cows please!”
It’s true—now I only dream in black and white
Each time I see a cow now, my fists arise, ready to fight

You see my poor ol’ father, good intentioned one
Roused me early Saturday morning exclaiming —
“Wake up! Wake up! We’re gonna have fun son!”
Little did I know, how many horns and tails and hides awaited me
Udder-ly hundreds, for we were going on a CowXpedition you see

But I’ll tell ya, more than one cow is quite enough
After number 101 you can get pretty sick of this stuff
By noon I was tired of “What’s this? What’s this?”
But seeing that Papa’s eyes were full of bliss
I put my thoughts of steer boredom aside
Making sure signs of bovine blasé I did hide
Keeping “Those are horns Papa, those are horns…” all to myself
For sometimes some things are better kept on the shelf

We took pictures with bovine beauties galore
like Cowgirl, Moo-ma and Moo-Stripa the…
Let’s just say her sweetmeats were hanging, they were a bit loose
She had glands the size of my head and boy, what a caboose!
But before I mutter anything more, I’ll admit I had some fun
Riding the School Cow and posing with Hooters in the sun
I moooved on to sMOOch at Central Park
Kissing Karma Cow on Helmsley Walk shortly before dark.
Even took bulls like Divine Bovine and Holy Cow!
By the horns in one hand and Miss Swiss Wine by the udder,
Ooops! Please, oh please, just don’t tell my Mutter!
She thinks I still play in the sand, when I prefer the gutter

But I’ll tell ya….

Before Sunday, a cow was something savory to eat
But by Monday, I wasn’t sure I even liked meat
I used to have my New York cut—Grade A— raw, red and bloody rare!
But now, a well-done soy-bean-earth-dirt burger is ‘bout all I can bare
Mommy, you’re right, I like my veggies green, yellow…
Now I’ll even eat them snow white!
But just keep Papa-carnivore away from me,
Please tell him no beef for me tonight.

And let my tell ya another thing…

I’m boycotting Boyden, Dairy Farmers and Land O’Lakes alike
I’ll take on the Swiss head-to-head and organize a Kraft strike
You won’t hear me asking “Got Milk?” that’s for sure
‘Cause I’m seeking to start the Hundred Bottles of Milk War!

‘Course there’s an exception better—than the kind sucked of leather-bovine
It’s my mama’s leche, that sweet mother’s milk-ambrosia divine

You see, reading Emerson, Thoureau, and Whitman never appealed to me
I rather thumb Chandler, Wolfe and William S. Burroughs preferably
In fact, I yearn to simply sit on the subway and take in the grime
I long for the grit of the City and applaud our high-crime

It’s all so simple, here I’ll explain…

Nature seems so silly when I can play in the soot
I grow stronger playing in the streets,
with each piece of glass stuck in my foot

No, you can take your green grass and vast fields away from me
The sticky tar and monkey bars are more amusing you see
I’m not a country boy, this for certain I know
Not too comfortable with the sickle, a plow or a hoe
But give me a bat or a stick and I’ll play ball wit’ ya Yo!

Born in the City, I’m bad and I’m Brooklyn bred
I wake myself up by putting a bat to my head
“Go Yankees! Go Mets! Giants rule! The Rangers are duh best!”
Give me Ebbet’s Field and Yankee Stadium, you can have the rest
Hell, I’ll take the streets of Manhattan over greener pastures any day,
Throw in Sheep’s Meadow to the Great Lawn and I’m happy I’d say

‘Cause Nature Boy—“Fuhgettaboutit!” As my crazy Papa would most likely relay I’m a New Yorker you see, so get outta my way ‘Nough of the musings, let’s look at them pictures today Just click below, come ride the rodeo with me I’ll show you the biggest teats this side of the Mississippi!