Cows With Guns
by Dana Lyons
by Dana Lyons, copyright 1996
Intro
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Am G Am
AmFat and docile, big and dumb
They look so stupid, they aren't much fun
GCows aren't Amfun
They eat to grow, grow to die
Die to be et at the hamburger fry
Cows well done
Nobody thunk it, nobody knew
No one imagined the great cow guru
Cows are one
He hid in the forest, read books with great zeal
He loved Che Guevera, a revolutionary veal
Cow Tse Tongue
He spoke about justice, but nobody stirred
He felt like an outcast, alone in the herd
Cow doldrums
He mooed we must fight, escape or we'll die
Cows gathered around, cause the steaks were so high
Bad cow pun
But then he was captured, stuffed into a crate
Loaded onto a truck, where he rode to his fate
Cows are bummed
He was a scrawny calf, who looked rather woozy
No one suspected he was packing an Uzi
Cows with guns
They came with a needle to stick in his thigh
He kicked for the groin, he ed in their eye
Cow well hung
Knocked over a tractor and ran for the door
Six gallons of gas flowed out on the floor
Run cows run!
He picked up a bullhorn and jumped up on the hay
We are free roving bovines, we run free today
We will Ffight for bovine Cfreedom
And Ehold our large heads Amhigh
We will Frun free with the CBuffalo, or Edie
Cows with [Am]guns
They crashed the gate in a great stampede
Tipped over a milk truck, torched all the feed
Cows have fun
Sixty police cars were piled in a heap
Covered in cow pies, covered up deep
Much cow dung
Black smoke rising, darkening the day
Twelve burning McDonalds, have it your way
We will fight for bovine freedom
And hold our large heads high
We will run free with the Buffalo, or die
Cows with guns
The President said "enough is enough
These uppity cattle, its time to get tough"
Cow dung flung
The newspapers gloated, folks sighed with relief
Tomorrow at noon, they would all be ground beef
Cows on buns
The cows were surrounded, they waited and prayed
They mooed their last moos,
they chewed their last hay
Cows out gunned
The order was given to turn cows to whoppers
Enforced by the might of ten thousand coppers
But on the horizon surrounding the shoppers
Came the deafening roar of chickens in choppers
We will fight for bovine freedom
And hold our large heads high
We will run free with the Buffalo, or die
Cows with guns
