Just lumbering across the fields
Or nibbling at their grassy yields
Or standing calmly in a pasture
Fearing no earthly disaster
Maybe it is they who know the truth
That man forgot back in his youth
That time is one of man’s inventions
To gauge our deeds and best intentions
Oh to stand beneath a tree
And marvel at a bumblebee
That pollinate the many flowers
That turn to fruit through summer showers
But unlike them I have a past
And days that never seem to last
And so it is I’m thinking now
Of what it is to be a cow
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