milk cow blues
          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

   The milkman attended
   the funeral today
   of Maggie the Milk Cow
   who just passed away
   She was his greatest giver
   producing night and day
   and just like some old nun in drag
   promised him a lay.

   There was Punk the Crazy Head
   with a plastic bag and glue
   He hollered and hollered
   and misplaced his own shoe
   He motioned to "Umbrella"
   said to be a clown
   But no one ever saw him smile
   But many saw him drown.

   There was Jake of "Simpson's Alley"
   Right behind the "Club"
   Where "Holly-whore" delivered
   For whoever had it up
   She always faltered badly
   When the "devil got her bad"
   But tonight she had a coughing fit
   And chocked while giving head.

   There was Pinky's little "Pinko"
   All three hundred pounds
   Who pranced just like a peacock
   And always made his rounds.
   There was Sally, she was holy
   She tried to make a priest
   Sometimes she got lucky,
   More often, a disease.

   There was "Rocky the Balboa"
   I think you know him well
   He was beat up pretty badly
   when he cast a voodoo spell -
   But Hell was some place later
   Between the garbage and the mud
   The theatre was empty
   and no one cared too much.

   And there was Andy, quite the "Actor"
   Dead below the waist
   But yet made every "Sally"
   He never should have saved.
   And then there was "Ma Parker"
   Mother of the con...
   She sliced some pieces off the corpse
   And ate them off and on.

   But the milkman grew upset at this
   Shouted "Why you slut!"
   Yet Andy came to rescue her
   And called the milkman "Fat."
   With both of them cast in a rage
   Rolling in the muck -
   Just as a defrocked priest arrived
   To bless them - he said "Fuck".

   "My children you must know of this
   Life is but a fluke -
   Born we were to barbecue
   So why condemn this "brute"?
   When we could have a final feast
   And get a cut of beef?"
   They all looked at each other
   And nodded in their grief.

   So they gathered up the butcher
   (He drank a little bit)
   and made him start the fire
   and sharpen his old wits -
   And all sat down to supper
   and no one shed a tear
   agreed this was the finest funeral
   they ever could have dared.

   They tell me there's a moral
   I don't know what to say
   Hell is a back-water
   and the preacher says he prays -
   And somehow no one saw it
   And somehow no one heard
   the wailings of a milk cow
   in the heaven they revered.


                           Copyright (c) 1993 Klaus J. Gerken