The Cows In The Moo Yard Are Making Their Plans

For The Long Winter Nights And The Cold Winter Hands



Some Out In The Fields Are Covered With Snow

The Black Ones Turn White And The White Ones Don't Show



Big Lamps In The Sunset, Between Bovine Dreams

Their Icicled Udders Are Waiting For Spring



And Up From The Road Comes The Sound Of The Wheel

Just An Old Ice Cream Wagon, They Say "I Know How You Feel"



Some Dream Of India, Where Their Cousins Are Stars

But They Don't Like The Crowds, So They Stay Where They Are



And Some Dream Of Florida, Of Roaming The Beach

With Metal Detectors For Gold They Can Reach



Well, What Can You Do? It's The Ice Or The Flies

The Temperature Slowing, The Tails Going By



It's A Dairy Existence, And I Must Conclude...

Cold Milk In A Bottle Still Beats Frozen Foods