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May 3, 2010 | by  | in Opinion |
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A love song for horses

Once upon a time my good friend and I formed a revenge band to get revenge on two individuals who formed a band and sang cute songs together. I found the book we wrote our first (and last) song in a couple of days ago, and thought “What? Why? Why is this stuck in a black book in a box under two other boxes and a bag of old curtains?” And then I thought “What? Why? Huh? It’s a song about horses in love. Horses in love who rap and make sexy horse jokes.” Anyway, I figured that maybe someone somewhere would have maybe a slightly vaguely minor interest in the love song for horses and that that someone somewhere would maybe be slightly vaguely disappointed if I omitted to publish it. I might be doing someone a favour, maybe.

Whinnyfred, your days are numbered

They gonna shoot me cause my leg is broken
And my heart don’t race no more
But I canter get you outta my head, neighby
You’re making my souls sore

Because I’m stuck on you
Turn me into glue
And I’ll forever be your neighbour
And y’all be the neighdy next door, neighby.

(RAPS) I ain’t jockin’, jockey
Wanna play some tonsil hockey?
You like dem’ other steeds—you cocky!
Yeah I ain’t horsin’ round with ya Whinny
Y’all see this whip? I’ll whip y’all skinny.


You see Whinny, I’m on e-quest(rian)
e-quest(rian for love)
I’d do anything if you’d saddle me
Yeah neighby, mount me from above

You’re my sweet chilly filly
Meet me between McLaurin and Laby, neighby
Yeah yeah yeah you my neighby
You wanna maybe be my neighby?
Yay or neigh? Neigh, neighbe, neighbe next week you neigh.
But I’ll be glue, oh yeah, I’ll be glue, it’s true, neighby, but I’ll still be stuck on you.


CUTE (?!!?)

Oh yeah. That’s why I keep the black book in a box under two other boxes under a bag of curtains. I get it. I’m sorry.

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