Jill Crewe
Well-Known Member
Why do I like horses?
I reckon I must be mad,
My mother wasn't horsey
And neither was my dad.
But the madness hit me early
And it hit me like a curse,
And I've never gotten better
In fact, I've gotten worse.
My stables are immaculate
My house is like a hovel,
Last year for my birthday
I got a brand new shovel.
I hardly read a paper,
But I know who's sold their horse,
And I wouldn't watch the news
unless Mr. Ed was on, of course.
One eye's on the heavens,
But my washing waves in vain,
As I rush to get the horses in,
In case it's gonna rain.
And though they're wearing 15 rugs,
the best that you can get,
I bring them in to keep them dry
While I get soaking wet.
I spend up every cent I've got
on horsey stuff for sure
I buy fancy rugs and fancy rugs,
And then I by some more.
I should have had that hair cut,
Or bought that nice blue shirt,
At least it wouldn't be now
Ripped to shreds and lying in the dirt.
I can't make a damn sponge cake,
I don't even damn well try,
But I can back a car and trailer
In the twinkling of an eye.
It's jods and riding boots
That I live in night and day
And that smell of sweaty horses
Just doesn't wash away.
Once in every now and then
I can dress up for a ball.
Make up and a hairdo
With high heel shoes and all.
I ache from long forgotten falls.
My knees have got no skin.
My toes have gone a funny shape.
From being squashed again.
But late at night, when all is still
And I've gone to give them hay,
I touch their velvet softness,
And my worries float away.
They give a gentle nicker
And they nuzzle through my hair
And I know it's where my heart is
More than anywhere.
I reckon I must be mad,
My mother wasn't horsey
And neither was my dad.
But the madness hit me early
And it hit me like a curse,
And I've never gotten better
In fact, I've gotten worse.
My stables are immaculate
My house is like a hovel,
Last year for my birthday
I got a brand new shovel.
I hardly read a paper,
But I know who's sold their horse,
And I wouldn't watch the news
unless Mr. Ed was on, of course.
One eye's on the heavens,
But my washing waves in vain,
As I rush to get the horses in,
In case it's gonna rain.
And though they're wearing 15 rugs,
the best that you can get,
I bring them in to keep them dry
While I get soaking wet.
I spend up every cent I've got
on horsey stuff for sure
I buy fancy rugs and fancy rugs,
And then I by some more.
I should have had that hair cut,
Or bought that nice blue shirt,
At least it wouldn't be now
Ripped to shreds and lying in the dirt.
I can't make a damn sponge cake,
I don't even damn well try,
But I can back a car and trailer
In the twinkling of an eye.
It's jods and riding boots
That I live in night and day
And that smell of sweaty horses
Just doesn't wash away.
Once in every now and then
I can dress up for a ball.
Make up and a hairdo
With high heel shoes and all.
I ache from long forgotten falls.
My knees have got no skin.
My toes have gone a funny shape.
From being squashed again.
But late at night, when all is still
And I've gone to give them hay,
I touch their velvet softness,
And my worries float away.
They give a gentle nicker
And they nuzzle through my hair
And I know it's where my heart is
More than anywhere.
