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I am a simple goat |
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I live on the back of a pick-up truck |
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The Old Man tied me here with a 3-foot rope |
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Am I happy he don't give a **** |
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He's filled with anger, and filled with rage |
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And tells me I smell like piss |
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His drink, Jimmy Bean |
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His chaser, a bear |
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After that, various alcohols |
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That's when the beatings get so severe |
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Asleep I pray he falls |
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But don't feel sorry for me |
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Things weren't always this bad |
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Why, when I was a young talking goat |
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The Old Man was just like my dad |
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I come from the hills of Europe |
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That's where I met the Old Man |
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He was lost in the woods, I gave him directions |
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He gave me a tuna can |
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Then he stopped in his tracks |
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And he said, "Hey Goat! |
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Would you like to live with me? |
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I've got a house with a pick-up truck |
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In a place across the sea" |
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I said, "Sure, why not, I've got no family |
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You seem like a nice guy" |
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So we went off to America |
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The home of the apple pie |
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On the boat, the Old Man told me |
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I would be a present for his wife |
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"A talking goat!" he exclaimed, |
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"She'd never seen this in her life" |
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I felt so special! |
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Well, I just couldn't believe it |
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After all theses years I finally had a friend |
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He trimmed my beard |
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He scraped my hooves |
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I prayed it would never end |
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But when we got to his house |
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There was no wife |
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Only a short, short letter |
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It said: "I'm leaving you for your broher |
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Because he ****s me better" |
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His eyes filled with tears of sadness |
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His heart was filled with grief |
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To soothe himself he drank a pint of Old Granddad |
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And beat me like a side of beef |
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I screamed, "Send me back to the hills of Europe!" |
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He just shook his head and said, "Nope! |
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No one will ever leave me again |
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To make sure, put on this 3-foot ****ing rope." |
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Present day, I've been on the truck for 51 years |
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My only friend is the AM radio |
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Sometimes the neighborhood children stop by |
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But it's always rocks and beer bottles they throw |
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At first they're excited to see a talking goat |
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They gather around to hear what I have to say |
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But I guess sometimes my stories go ont too long |
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So they leave and giggle I need a bidet |
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But you know there was a night that I did get off the truck |
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When the Old Man was passed out drunk |
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Three neightborhood kids took me to a rock 'n roll concert |
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The kind of music, old-school funk |
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It was the first time I got off the truck |
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The music made me lose control |
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The lead singer asked if we were having fun |
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I said, "****ing crank that rock 'n roll!" |
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The women at the show were beautiful |
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As they danced sexily on the soft grass |
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One of them even petted my fur |
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**** me in the goat-ass! |
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Then some long-haired guys grabbed me by the horns |
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And threw me in the mosh pit |
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They passed me around and treated me nie |
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Till I nerviously sprayed them with shit |
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Then the music stopped |
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And everything was quite |
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And all the rock 'n rollers started a ****ing goat-riot |
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Kill the goat! |
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Kill the goat! |
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Kill the goat! |
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Kill the goat! |
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They chased me under the bleachers |
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They chased me onto the street |
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They chased me into an alley |
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And said I was a dead ****ing goat meat |
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But then I saw a sight |
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That I never thought I'd see |
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The Old Man swinging his hickory stick |
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But he wasn't swinging at me |
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"**** you, pot-smoking turkeys! |
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Don't you press your luck!" |
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The long hairs ran away screaming |
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As I scrambled onto the truck |
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When we got home, the Old Man said, |
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"Goat, you broke the sacred law |
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No! Please! Sorry! Shit! |
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I'll let it go this time, but if you leave again |
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I'll break your ****ing jaw!" |
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Super! Great! Okay! |
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"Thank you Old Man, for saving my life |
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Thank you again and again |
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You could have let them barbeque me, |
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But you acted like a friend" |
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"I'm not your friend, I don't even like you |
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I'm just not drunk," he said |
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To prove his point, he drank a bottle of grain alcohol |
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And beat the ****ing shit out of my tailbone |
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And I'll probably never walk straight again |
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I guess you'd call me a scapegoat |
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A punching bag for the Old Man to mock |
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Just because his wife left him |
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For his brother's abnormally large cock |
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He could have been my buddy |
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But instead he's a crazy old **** |
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And, once again, I go to sleep in my eternal home |
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The back of the pick-up truck |
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Goodnight, Old Man! |
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Yeah, goodnight Goat |