I'm a cow. I'll play my part
With the latest state of fart.
No bum steer, I'll not be airy,
Popping pills across the prairie.
I'm a sheep. My sphincter's hip:
When I eat grass, I won't let rip.
No more backside ammunition,
Now we've blocked the flock's emission.
I'm a pig. You will not find
Methane in my pink behind.
No more whiff or filthy smell. It's
Down to all these special pellets.
I'm American. I know
Just which way the wind won't blow.
My fundamental line is still
To turn each giant cheek at will.
