In England I just bought
--and paid them cash up front--
a purebread cow that is
a bit extravagant.
They told me she was special
but I could not believe
a saint you had to be
to deal with her all day.
She does not eat just grass
and hay she can`t digest.
I tried asparagus
and turnips but in vain.
She likes to eat fine things,
biscuits and creamy cakes.
I must have spent a fortune
in wafers and grissini.
At dawn I went to milk her
but she won`t give me milk
"How dare you," she screams out
"To take such liberties?"
She must bathe in my room
and sleep upon my bed
and since she`s rather shy
she wants to wear brassieres.
I don`t know what to do.
But take Vaccaro`s word,
whit this old crazy cow
they ruined my life and how.


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