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Pastimes : Ask Me -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: JakeStraw who wrote (35)	4/8/1998 10:53:00 AM
From: SIer formerly known as Joe B.	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 1035

JG is familiar with my diviance but this will summarize for the rest: The Goat Song I am a simple goat I live on the back of a pick-up truck The Old Man tied me here with a three-foot rope Am I happy? He don't give a fuck "Hey Goat! I'm gonna beat your head in with the hickory stick!" Sometimes he uses his fists He's filled with anger, and filled with rage And tells me I smell like piss His drink, Jimmy Beam His chaser, a beer After that, various alcohols That's when the beatings get so severe Asleep I pray he falls But don't feel sorry for me Things weren't always this bad Why, when I was a young talking goat The Old Man was just like my dad I come from the hills of Europe That's where I met the Old Man He was lost in the woods, I gave him directions He gave me a tuna can Then he stopped in his tracks And he said "Hey Goat! Would you like to live with me? I've got a house with a pick-up truck In a place across the sea" I said "Sure, why not, I've got no family You seem like a nice guy" So we went off to America The home of apple pie On the boat, the Old Man told me I would be a present for his wife "A talking goat!" he exclaimed, "She'd never seen this in her life" I felt so special! Well, I just couldn't believe it After all these years I finally had a friend He trimmed my beard He scraped my hooves I prayed it would never end But when we got to his house There was no wife Only a short, short letter It said: "I'm leaving you for your brother Because he fucks me better" His eyes filled with tears of sadness His heart was filled with grief To soothe himself he drank a pint of Old Granddad And beat me like a side of beef I screamed "Send me back to the hills of Europe!" He just shook his head and said, "Nope! No one will ever leave me again To make sure, put on this three-foot fucking rope" Present day, I've been on the truck for 51 years My only friend is the AM radio Sometimes the neighborhood children stop by But it's always rocks and beer bottles that they throw At first they're excited to see a talking goat They gather around to hear what I have to say But I guess sometimes my stories go on too long So they leave and giggle I need a bidet But you know there was a night that I did get off the truck When the Old Man was passed out drunk Three neighborhood kids took me to a rock 'n' roll concert The kind of music: old-school funk It was the first time I got off the truck The music made me lose control The lead singer asked if we were having fun I said "Fucking crank that rock 'n' roll!" The women at the show were beautiful As they danced sexily on the soft grass One of them even petted my fur Fuck me in the goat-ass! Then some long-haired guys grabbed me by the horns And threw me in the mosh pit They passed me around and treated me nice Till I nervously sprayed them with shit Then the music stopped And everything was quiet And all the rock 'n' rollers started a fucking goat-riot KILL THE GOAT! KILL THE GOAT! KILL THE GOAT! KILL THE GOAT! They chased me under the bleachers They chased me onto the street They chased me into an alley And said I was dead fucking goat meat But then I saw a sight That I never thought I'd see The Old Man swinging his hickory stick But he wasn't swinging at me "Fuck you, pot-smoking turkeys! Don't you press your luck!" The long hairs ran away screaming As I scrambled onto the truck When we got home, the Old Man said, "Goat, you broke the sacred law (No! Please! Sorry! Shit!) I'll let it go this time, but if you leave again I'll break your fucking jaw!" (Super! Great! Okay!) "Thank you Old Man, for saving my life, Thank you again and again You could have let them barbecue me, But you acted like a friend" "I'm not your friend, I don't even like you, I'm just not drunk," he said To prove his point, he drank a bottle of grain alcohol And beat the fucking shit out of my head Ow! Ow! Ow! You're hurting me, Old Man! That night I suffered a concussion Deep inside my goat-brain I still cannot feel my tailbone And I'll probably never walk straight again I guess you'd call me a scapegoat A punching bag for the Old Man to mock Just because his wife left him For his brother's abnormally large cock He could have been my buddy But instead he's a crazy old fuck And, once again, I go to sleep in my eternal home The back of the pick-up truck Goodnight, Old Man! Yeah, goodnight Goat!