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To All the Cows I've Milked Before
Song Lyrics
Lyrics for all songs copyright 1999 by Clyde Bauman |
WE COULDN'T START THE TRACTOR
Farming on the northern Plains, milking cows, growing grains,
Keeping all the silos full, being agricultural.
Pray for rain, load the truck, listen to the chickens cluck,
Work all day, sleep all night, work the next day.
(Instrumental break)
Wife went to the store, I go out to do the chores;
Up on the tractor ‘cause I gotta go plow.
Field work’s not done, but the tractor won’t run.
Pop the clutch, turn the key, nothing seems to work for me!
We couldn’t start the tractor, it’s the carburetor or the alternator.
We couldn’t start the tractor, she is in position, but there’s no ignition.
Turn the key ‘round and ‘round, starter doesn’t make a sound.
Kick the tire, scratch my head, get the tools out from the shed.
Maybe it’s electrical, maybe it’s mechanical,
Maybe I can plow with the family car…
Change the filter, change the oil, radiator starts to boil;
Fill it up with antifreeze, spilling some upon my knees.
Check the motor every night, something isn’t fitting right;
Keeps on leaking every day – puddles in the driveway!
We couldn’t start the tractor, Oh, I tried to choke it, but I think I broke it.
We couldn’t start the tractor, radiator’s hissing and the engine’s missing.
New points, new plugs, try to get out all the bugs;
Fan belt, battery, this tractor’ll be the death of me!
Will it quit? Will it go? Will it start tomorrow?
Will insurance pay if I set it on fire?
Ay-ay-ay!
John Deere, JI Case, Allis-Chalmers in my face,
Oliver won’t run – try a Massey-Ferguson;
Sell the car, sell the bull, buy an International:
Seems whichever one I drive, I can’t keep the thing alive!
We couldn’t start the tractor, I am in a panic, need a good mechanic.
We couldn’t start the tractor, all the fuel she’s pumping on the ground is dumping.
Finally got the thing to run, thought that my repairs were done.
Better be! I had to make seven trips to town.
Take it out through the gate, still won’t steer straight,
Radio’s dead, and the fan’s broke down.
GPS satellite isn’t working quite right.
I don’t know what to do: it says I’m farming in Peru!
We couldn’t start the tractor, oh, the power take-off is about to break off.
We couldn’t start the tractor, it makes me homicidal when it just won’t idle.
In the field, running fine, coming to the section line,
Try to stop; now the tractor won’t shut down.
Can’t get it out of gear, say a prayer, shed a tear.
Starter key breaks in two – I don’t know what to do!
Steering gear starts to burn – stupid tractor won’t turn!
Tractor driver’s pretty dense, take out 40 feet of fence.
In a rut gets stuck, crash into the pickup truck.
Radio, warn the spouse, think I’m heading for the house!
We couldn’t stop the tractor, everybody duck! Because the clutch is stuck.
We couldn’t stop the tractor, until I’m out of gas, I’ll just go on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on…
We couldn’t stop the tractor, I am getting thinner, ‘cause I’m missing dinner.
We couldn’t stop the tractor, I can’t make a profit, if I can’t get off it.
We couldn’t stop the tractor, the way this thing is driving, hope I’ll be surviving.
We couldn’t stop the tractor…
Look out!
Emma, get the car and follow me!
Emma, stop this crazy thing!
Call the county agent!
Oh – I just built that!
Oh, my alfalfa!
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Big Cows Don't Dry
Big cows don’t dry! Big cows don’t dry!
Big cows don’t run dry-y-y (they don’t run dry.)
Big cows don’t run dry (who says they don’t run dry?)
My cow has great supply (great supply)
Her milk goes sky-high (ay-ay-ay!).
Silly boy – there you sit with just one pail;
Silly boy – that’s not enough for this female.
Stupid boy – you need a tub to get you by.
(‘Cause) Big cows don’t dry!
Big cows don’t run dry (they don’t run dry).
Big cows don’t run dry (don’t squirt me in the eye!)
INSTRUMENTAL
It makes my heart flu-u-tter (It takes me back)
When I see her udder (boy, what a sack!)
Silly boy – I knew your pail would overflow
Stupid boy – all that milk has no place to go
You’re so dumb – you spilled her milk; now don’t you cry!
Big cows don’t dry!
Big cows don’t run dry (And that’s no lie).
Big cows don’t run dry (That’s right, they don’t run dry!).
Big cows don’t dry! Big cows don’t dry!
Big cows don’t dry! Big cows don’t dry!
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To All The Cows I've Milked Before
To all the cows I’ve milked before,
Who came in through my big barn door,
I’m glad they came along, I dedicate this song
To all the cows I’ve milked before.
To all the hay I’ve ever baled,
Which once was wheat, but then it hailed.
In square bales or in round, in stacks, or on the ground,
You fed the cows that I adore.
The dairy herd is always changing;
I’ve watched so many come and go.
Oh, some were nice, but some were ornery;
I’m glad I don’t milk buffalo.
To all the rich folks, dressed in silk,
Now drinking someone else’s milk;
(I) Hope they appreciate the sacrifices made
By all the cows I’ve milked before.
To all the udders I’ve caressed;
And may I say I’ve held the best.
I softened them with balm, and kept their owners calm,
So I could milk them all once more.
I’ve spent my lifetime as a farmboy;
I’ve tended stock, I’ve grown some grain.
I would have liked a bigger salary,
But still I’d do it all again.
To all the bulls I’ve ever hired,
And all the calves that they have sired;
I listen to them moo; they’re saying, “I love you,”
All the cows I’ve milked before.
To all the cows I’ve milked before –
It always was a pleasant chore (ALT. my favorite chore)–
I sing the highest praise to Holsteins that we raise.
To all the cows I’ve milked before.
I’m glad they came alone, I dedicate this song
To all the cows I’ve milked before.
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I Got You, Babe
EMMA: They say we’re young and we don’t know,
And anything we plant, it just won’t grow.
MYLO: Well, I don’t know if that’s true,
But you got me, and Emma, I got you, ja.
BOTH: I got you, babe.
I got you, babe.
EMMA: They say our cows will all go dry,
Our hens won’t lay, and all our crops will die.
MYLO: Well, even if we have a drought,
My love for you will never dry off --er, up --up, out … ja.
BOTH: I got you, babe.
Ja, I do, babe.
EMMA: I have calves
In the spring;
MYLO: I have worms
To go fishing.
EMMA: Oh, Mylo, you’re my favorite spouse;
I love you more than all the cows.
MYLO: So, Emma, let’s walk arm in arm;
There ain’t no quarter-section we can’t farm.
EMMA: Ja, even if our milk turns blue,
You got me, and Mylo?
MYLO: what?
EMMA: I’m stuck with you.
MYLO: Stuck with me?
EMMA: --er, stuck on you, ja.
BOTH: I got you, babe.
We have us, babe.
We have each other.
MYLO: I got you to hold my hand.
EMMA: I got you to till the land.
MYLO: I got you to milk my cow.
EMMA: I got you to fix the plow.
I got you through all the years.
MYLO: I can turn the bulls to steers!
I got you in the chicken coop.
EMMA: I got you to scoop the poop!
BOTH: Ja, ja, ach, ja, sure, you betcha!
I got you, babe.
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Whiter Shade of Pail
We skip the striped Buelingo,
And the Angus, they’re no good.
We only milk the Holsteins;
That’s the way it oughtta should … be.
We line them up in two rows,
Distract them with some hay,
And then we do the milking,
Just like we learned in FFA.
Her milk’s flowing white,
I dodge her swinging tail.
And as the bucket fills up gradually,
I have a whiter shade of pail.
INSTRUMENTAL
Ja, milking’s not too hard now,
It’s easy as you please;
It’s just you against the milk cow,
With a pail between your knees.
If you have a cow that fidgets
Or has a crooked teat,
You just might miss the bucket
And shoot milk on your feet!
The milk’s flowing white
I watch the milk drops sail.
One by one, they reach their target
And I have a whiter shade of pail
INSTRUMENTAL
Her milk’s flowing white
Like raindrops in a gale.
And as the bucket fills up gradually,
And I have a white shade of pail.
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Under the Cow
Alfalfa is always greener on somebody else’s farm.
The buildings look so much cleaner; the acreage has such charm.
Just look at the farms around you: the trucks and the tractors shine.
The yields that they get astound you, but still I am feeling fine.
Under the cow, under the cow,
Life sure is merry with your own dairy, under the cow.
You get your dairy products free, all that you need for you and me;
Straight from the udder comes milk and butter
Under the cow.
The farmers who have no livestock, their lives simply aren’t the best;
They have nothing they can butcher when they’re entertaining guests.
When our pastor comes for dinner, the food’s right at hand, you see;
Last Sunday, we had a chicken who entered the ministry!
Under the cow, under the cow,
You’ll get good mileage out of your sileage, I tell you now.
Just make sure she don’t step on your toe, or off to the doctor you will go,
And you’ll be as much as milking on crutches
Under the cow, under the cow.
You’ve won half the battle when you have cattle, this is my vow.
Some people like to gather eggs, but cows have twice as many legs,
And cream is sweeter straight from the teater, under the cow.
You stand her in place, the cow feeds her face.
Her bag starts to sag, you can’t keep the pace.
Your thumb starts to hurt, you squirt in the dirt.
Your pail starts to overflow.
The cow shifts her weight, there’s milk in your lap.
She swings at a fly and knocks off your cap.
The cow chews her cut, her milk’s like a flood:
I think it’s 2%!
Under the cow, under the cow,
Life sure is pleasing when you are squeezing, I tell you now!
Only when you’re out on the farm can you drink the milk while it’s still warm;
It’s even fresher when you use pressure, under the cow.
Hold your position when her tail’s swishin’, under the cow.
Once before breakfast, once before dinner; keep her on schedule and you’re a winner.
Don’t keep her waiting when she’s lactating, under the cow!
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Hens with Low Faces
Blame it all on my wife, though for most of our life
Her advice has been thoughtful and good;
But this time she goofed, and I would say “Uff da!”
If I was Norwegian and I could (I’m German).
She thought that our rooster should get a booster shot,
So he wouldn’t catch chicken pox,
But she was all wrong; the shot was too strong;
Now the rooster is in a pine box!
And I’ve got hens with low faces,
‘Cause the rooster died, and the whole place
Will have to start from scratch;
None of my eggs will hatch.
My henhouse future is awfully tricky,
‘Cause in all those eggs, there’s no chickies!
And I’ve got hens with low faces.
It’s been tough on the flock; all the girls are in shock,
For the henhouse is missing its chief.
When we held the wake,
The hens tried to break all their eggs as a gesture of grief.
The flock keeps on shrinking while we do some thinking ‘bout
What kind of rooster to buy.
And back on the next, they’re getting no rest;
The girls just sit there and cry!
And I’ve got hens with low faces,
‘Cause the rooster’s dead, and the whole place
Is going on the skids;
The chickens have no kids.
My friends come by and they see my chickens,
And they shake their heads and say, “what the dickens!”
And I’ve got hens with low faces.
It’s too sad for words: I’ve got no young birds
To take up their place in the coop.
We used to have chicken each Sunday for dinner,
But now we’re stuck with vegetable soup.
One more thing that I hate:
I’m sleeping too late, ‘cause the rooster woke me up every day.
It might be a pain, but I’m gonna train
The bull to wake me that way!
And I’ve got hens with low faces,
‘Cause the rooster’s gone, and the whole place is just out of luck;
I sure miss that cluck!
My henhouse future is in peril,
‘Cause the eggs they’re laying, they’re all sterile,
And I’ve got hens with low faces.
Ja, I’ve got hens with low faces.
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Tractor Song
I was afraid to get on my new tractor;
It cost a lot more than I could afford.
I was afraid to get on my new tractor,
So I watched from my pickup’s running board.
(Three, four, five, tell the people what you drive!)
It was a green and yellow power steerie 60-series Johnny Deerie
That I drove for the first time today;
A single-axle power steerie green and yellow Johnny Deerie,
So on the pickup I thought I would stay.
(Two, three, four, Mylo’s gonna sing some more!)
I was afraid to go out in the wheat field;
I didn’t know if my rows would be straight.
I was afraid to go out in the wheat field,
So I just parked the tractor by the gate.
(Six, seven, eight, park the tractor by the gate.)
It was a green and yellow power steerie 60-series Johnny Deerie
That I drove for the first time today.
A single-axle power steerie green and yellow Johnny Deerie,
So by the gate I thought I would stay.
(Zero, one, two, I don’t think that Mylo’s through!)
Now I’m afraid to get off my new tractor,
Oh, if I do, then I probably will drown;
‘Cause I just drove the tractor in the stock pond,
And I’m stuck ‘till my wife gets back from town!
(Four, five, six, Mylo’s really in a fix!)
It was a green and yellow power steery 60-series Johnny Deerie
That I drove for the first time today;
A single-axle power steery green and yellow Johnny Deerie,
And in the stock pond it probably will stay.
From the pickup to the tractor,
From the tractor to the gate,
From the wheat field to the stock pond;
I hope Emma isn’t late!
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Ballad of the Big Buffet
I saw the sign out on the street:
“$5.99 – All You Can Eat!”
It’s now my favorite place to stay,
And it’s called the big buffet.
Beef and beans and cake and stew,
A salad bar and veggies, too;
There’s fish and pie and ham and pork;
I think that I need a bigger fork.
Put chicken wings upon my plate.
There’s nothing here that I hate.
You’ll see me here most every day!
I am one with the big buffet.
I got my plate filled up just fine,
But I’m just halfway through the line!
I need room to hold some more;
I need a plate with a second floor.
Put chicken wings upon my plate.
My chores at home will have to wait.
I’m like a cow hip-deep in hay;
I’ll chew my cud at the big buffet.
At the table my wife waits,
Surrounded by my empty plates.
She brought an afghan to crochet,
‘Cause she knows we’ll be here all day!
No chicken wings upon my plate;
I guess that I have met my fate.
I’ll have to eat at home today,
For I’ve been banned from the big buffet.
They kicked me out of the big buffet!
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Could I Have This Dunce
I’ll always remember the day we were married,
The day that we said, “I do.”
When we knelt at the altar, my knees, they did falter;
I had a second thought or two.
Could I have this dunce for the rest of my life?
If he was my husband, would I have to be his wife?
Just to consider it fills me with strife.
Could I have this dunce for the rest of my life?
He’s not such a genius: if you look in his ear,
I think you can see straight through.
When he took me to the drive-in to see “Closed for the season,”
Ja, that’s when I had a clue!
Could I have this dunce for the rest of my life?
Could he get used to such a smart wife?
But when we’re together he treats me so nice!
Ja, I’ll have this dunce for the rest of my life.
Ja, he’ll be my man for the rest of my life!
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Big John
Let me tell you all a story ‘bout a shack outside;
It’s a nice place to sit, and a good place to hide.
It’s got a long wooden bench with three holes in it;
It’s a welcome sight, even if only for a minute – big john.
It’s out by the barn, just a few steps back.
The door shuts tight, but you can see through the crack.
There’s a latch on the door, for the sake of my spouse,
And for the sake of us all, it’s downwind from the house –
Big john, big john, outdoor john, big john.
There’s books in there that’ll make you smile,
And catalogs, if you’re staying a while.
There’s J.C. Penney and Montgomery Ward’s,
We write our Christmas lists right on the boards
Of the john – in pencil.
We tipped it over one Halloween night.
It fell with a bang! It was really a sight.
But my dad was inside when it fell to the ground,
And when he got through with us, we couldn’t sit down
In the john – big john, big john, outdoor john, big john.
(Alternate inclement-weather verse)
I was in it in July, and wouldn’t you know,
A tornado came up, and it started to blow,
And it picked up the outhouse and carried it away!
I covered a lot of ground that day in the john – big john,
Big john, outdoor john, big john.
My Papa dropped a quarter down the hole one day,
So he pulled out his wallet and threw it in right away.
We both looked at each other; I knew what he meant:
He wasn’t climbing down there for just twenty-five cents –
Big john!
But the outdoor john became a dinosaur;
We got plumbing in the house, and didn’t need it no more.
So I said to my wife, “It isn’t finished, is it?
I’d like to keep it up for when your mother comes to visit.”
Big john! But my wife won the argument…
So I tore down the outhouse and dragged it through town
‘Till I came to the deepest gully around.
I pushed ‘er to the bottom, and I put up a sign. It read:
“At the bottom of this pit lies a big, big john!”
Big john, big john, outdoor john, big john, big john, big john.
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I Milk the Cows
My dad’s a dairy farmer, and he milked the very first cows.
Now when he’s too busy with his chores, he says,
“Mylo, you go milk the cows.”
And I milk the cows before I go to school;
I milk the cows with just my pail and my stool.
My friends all say that I’m a milking fool.
I milk the cows, I milk the cows.
My whole school day lies before me, but I don’t care,
No way, no how.
I just know that before I get on the bus,
I had better finish up that last cow ( ja, sure, you bet…).
And I milk the cows before I go to school;
I milk the cows with just my pail and my stool.
They give that milk that makes your bones grow strong.
I milk the cows, I milk the cows.
Oh, that Holstein makes me laugh, ‘cause she’s clumsy as a big giraffe.
And once, when I was little, I tried to milk the bull!
He kicked me in the pants; that was the end of our romance.
I hate him; he hates me. I don’t care, nosirree,
‘Cause he don’t give no milk, you see!
I milk the cows before I go to school;
I milk the cows with just my pail and my stool.
They give that milk that helps prevent osteoporosis.
I milk the cows, I milk the cows.
I milk the cows just like my Daddy said;
I think I’ll milk those beasts until I drop dead!
I’ll squeeze those teats until my fingers turn red.
I milk the cows, I milk the cows.
I am Mylo, and I milk the cows!
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