Do They the Cowboy Ballet

they seek words to describe their thoughts they mock the English they Curse him in French they mumble his name in Russian and laugh at him in German yet they speak in his tongue and speak him as God Cattle shall be herded into stalls to be milked their milk shall be curdled into cheese men shall want these soft dairied things so they can have their wives and mothers feed them she wishes me clean, but refuses to wash my coat she speaks me as ill and won't wash my coat she tell the neighbors to smell the horses Oder and the stenge of the cattle, she told when it rains rub soap into the coat and toss it over the saddle let the horse walk in the rain to clean the stench in the pouring rain I look at her, and often walks away what good thing could I find to say I just grab my guitar and am on my merry-way!