It was time to mow the grass.
Gallon and a half of gas
cost me over six green bills,
think I'll put goats on these hills,
milk the nannies, make cheese
and smell that odor on the breeze.
Spurge spreads in pastures and everything,
so when the goats beget offspring,
I'll rent 'em to the highest bid
so they can eat and get rid
of that grass-chokin' weed.
Hope I don't create a stampede
of goat-hungry folks to my door
asking, "When will you get more?"
I'll set-up and register a brand,
operate with supply and demand,
sit back, and salivate with greed
since I've created such a need
that the money would start rollin' in.
Now here's where the dream will end.
Wife'd say, "We've got cash, mow again!"
