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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required It is crazy, it is loco, just like the name On ranches in the Southwest, it will grow It is a poison, a narcotic, will drive animals insane Once they have eaten it for a short period of time, never the same It will ill them, but death comes slow Has the very same affect as heroin and cocaine Looks like alfalfa, pretty, sweet and green Grows in the winter, when grass is straw like and dead They are forever pulled to it, like a magnet force To them it is like sweet candy, very high in protein But in a matter of time, will take them to their death bed From a deer to an antelope, to a cow and a horse It is easy to tell when one is on he weed, by the things that they do They will get thin, won't eat anything else, get upset fast Like a worm in a apple, that is what it does to their brain They are in a storm of their own and do not have a clue It is one that they will never get past Like drugs, everything to lose and nothing to gain The seed will lay in the ground for ninety nine years of more They have tried to eradicate it, the next year it will be back They chop and burn it, but still there is the seed For the rancher it is a losing battle and a lopsided score The more they fight, the less that they win So they just try to live with the damn old LOCO WEED
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