[SIZE=14pt]Here I sits[/SIZE]
staring at the cam,
night after night,
I'm weary I am I am.
The over-do mare
moves about to and fro,
she's so fat
she's going to blow.
She waddles around,
picking at her hay,
the clock says tonite is over,
and now it's already today
Everytime she passes gas,
I think the foal's coming outta her atlast-
and then I take another look,
it wasn't a foal just another poop!
Her sides are moving,
and her tail's a twitchin,
and from side to side,
her butt she's itchin.
The shadow's in her stall,
are mighty tricky too-
we've had a bucket shadow foal,
and a foal that was really poo.
She pushes her butt,
into the wall with a thrust,
oh this poor mare,
she's gonna bust!
And as I doze off
the buzzer I hear,
is screaming inside
of my little ear.
No rest for the weary
how right they are;
I look like Elenor Rigby
with my face in a jar.
I'm too tired to sleep,
I'm too tired to lay,
I can't believe,
that my foal is not here yet today.
How long can she hold out,
before she explodes?
It's going to be a whopper too,
cause she's carrying one heavy load.
So when's my foal coming out?
I just don't know.
I hope it's sometime soon,
before it decides to snow!
So let's have that foal
be born pretty fast,
so I can curl up with y'all
and sleep in the hay with them atlast.
by
Marty Garrison
staring at the cam,
night after night,
I'm weary I am I am.
The over-do mare
moves about to and fro,
she's so fat
she's going to blow.
She waddles around,
picking at her hay,
the clock says tonite is over,
and now it's already today
Everytime she passes gas,
I think the foal's coming outta her atlast-
and then I take another look,
it wasn't a foal just another poop!
Her sides are moving,
and her tail's a twitchin,
and from side to side,
her butt she's itchin.
The shadow's in her stall,
are mighty tricky too-
we've had a bucket shadow foal,
and a foal that was really poo.
She pushes her butt,
into the wall with a thrust,
oh this poor mare,
she's gonna bust!
And as I doze off
the buzzer I hear,
is screaming inside
of my little ear.
No rest for the weary
how right they are;
I look like Elenor Rigby
with my face in a jar.
I'm too tired to sleep,
I'm too tired to lay,
I can't believe,
that my foal is not here yet today.
How long can she hold out,
before she explodes?
It's going to be a whopper too,
cause she's carrying one heavy load.
So when's my foal coming out?
I just don't know.
I hope it's sometime soon,
before it decides to snow!
So let's have that foal
be born pretty fast,
so I can curl up with y'all
and sleep in the hay with them atlast.
by
Marty Garrison