|Mad Cow plays with our head
His syntax is muddled and dead
His mouth and his grin
Like a stinking fish tin
Floats like it’s full of lead.
|Mad Cow had no Oedipal thing
For Daddy was his money king
Who propped up a loser son
And bled the poor for fun.
Guess where we put the nostril ring.
|Mad Cow has a psychic fear
Nothing to do with King Lear
Cow rages at shadows, threats from thin air
Blusters and bumbles with menacing hair
The end of his world is coming near.
|Small cows hear the Mad call
Bring down the heavens, having a ball
Put her in jail, demonize the brown
Failing the test for a circus clown
Break out the song sheet, build me a wall.
|Mad Cow lives in adverbial bliss
Laying superlatives over his piss
Mine has the longest arc
He says without any snark
The target I never miss.