This butter was made in the udder of a cow but we don’t know where the cow was from.
This butter was made in the udder of a cow but we don’t know where the cow was from.The cow could be from Jersey
Or from the Isle of Man;
The cow could be from the Lake Country
Where it lives with stiff élan;
The cow could be from Ely
Or from fair Cambridge too;
The cow could’ve been from Milton Keynes
Where it stood around in its own poo.This butter was made in the udder of a cow but we don’t know where the cow was from.
This butter was made in the udder of a cow but we don’t know where the cow was from.The grass that made this butter
Was chewed down into cud
By a cow named Bessie or Nessie or Nell
Descended from aristocratic blood.
But from whence comes this peerage?
But where pray did she chew?
I asked the maître d’ but he laughed at me
And on further pressing said Fuck you.This butter was made in the udder of a cow but we don’t know where the cow was from.
This butter was made in the udder of a cow but we don’t know where the cow was from.This butter was made
By the churning of a maid
Who was severely underpaid
In pence and lemonade,
Though long before she knew
How much milking she would do
The cow digested through
Her four stomachsA chunky clot of grass
In a fibrous sticky mass
That dissolved into a gas
That she passed out through her ass.
But the nutrients remained
Due to hormones in her brain;
Down they traveled in a train
To her udder,Which filled up to the brim
With a liquid form of vim
Congealed by the maid
Into lipids on parade,
A party on the tongue
And also in the tum,
The very taste of yum
For which the angels hum
Hosannas and succumb –
But where’d the cow come from?This butter was made in the udder of a cow but we don’t know where the cow was from.
This butter was made in the udder of a cow but we don’t know where the cow was from.
It’s a conundrum!