| 1. Mad Cow’s gut speaks to his brain Synapses all on the wane Cow needs a new route to his mouth With everything still going south What he eats, what he shits An ocean of wit Tea leaves as brain food For the excremental dude Gas straight across his bow Elicits a thumb, a clap, a Wow Gastric juices in his golden bowel Or just another belly roll Intestinal blocks are all the rage Mad Cow grunts and turns the page Happy his gut rules his head Better spouting shit than being dead.  |
2. Mad Cow’s words form a cork and a screw Twisted sisters in a barnyard brew The fog engine turns, bristles and blows Language at war, syntax the foe Lip sync woes, words at stress Mad Cow is his own caress Another turn, another twist Magic happens at the wrist Subject yearns for the rest of the line Predicate absent, out to dine Verbs that move life along Are in the weeds, a Mad Cow song Nouns that held a building still Are lost in Cow’s gut-filled will Spaghetti slang straight from his lips Limps, lumps and Freudian slips Big words cover industrial land The Greatest is written in Biblical sand Cow wrestles with syntax, shuts down his brain He wobbles around on a wobbly cane Cow marks his passage his proverbial way Winks at the suckers, everyone pays His tongue and his brain are a cosmos apart Cross your fingers, now time will start Breathe in deeply, hold that air Relax, you’re in Mad Cow’s Care. |