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.