Fools Motto
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
If the racing's on, of course.
One eye's always 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 pound I've got
On horsey stuff for sure.
I buy them fancy tack and fancy rugs,
And then I buy 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 in the dirt.
I can't make a silly sponge cake
I don't even try
But I can back a car and trailer
In the twinkling of an eye.
It's jeans and wellie boots
That I live in night and day
And that smell of sweaty horses
Just doesn't wash away.
Once 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 finny 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 me 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
If the racing's on, of course.
One eye's always 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 pound I've got
On horsey stuff for sure.
I buy them fancy tack and fancy rugs,
And then I buy 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 in the dirt.
I can't make a silly sponge cake
I don't even try
But I can back a car and trailer
In the twinkling of an eye.
It's jeans and wellie boots
That I live in night and day
And that smell of sweaty horses
Just doesn't wash away.
Once 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 finny 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 me a gentle nicker
And they nuzzle through my hair
And I know it's where my heart is
More than anywhere.
