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Dana Lyons
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Cows With Guns
Lyricist：Dana C Lyons
Fat and docile, big and dumb
They look so stupid
They aren't much fun
Cows aren't fun
They eat to grow
Grow to die
Die to be at
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 pissed 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
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We run free today
We will fight for bovine freedom
And hold our large heads high
We will run free with the Buffalo, or die
Cows with 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
It's 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
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