Welcome Home
When I’m asked about milking, I can say and it’s
true,
That over the years, I have milked quite a
few.
There were cows that were good, and some that were
mean,
Cows that were docile, and some in
between.
There were cows that were kickers, and swatted their
tail,
Some that jumped fences, others filled up the
pail.
There’s something about milking, that gets in your
blood,
Through hot and cold weather, through sunshine and
mud.
It’s a sad day indeed, when the years do you
under,
A sale cleans you out, and you have time to
wonder,
About the rapport, between a man and his
cow,
The pastures and barns, that stand empty
now.
There’s no need to hurry, all that is
past,
The echoes and memories, will just have to
last.
There’s one consolation, when I’m dead and
gone,
And I face the one, who sits on the
throne.
He says to me, ’What took you so
long,
The cows are waiting, grab a bucket, Welcome Home!’
To Send This To A Friend Click The Buttons Below: