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 foodsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.