Consumer Highway. Poem by Daniel Gelinas

Everybody gas up, it's time to go, time for this variety show.

Something for everyone, but never enough.

We cows need money to fund ourselves.

Addictions; afflictions that can't be helped, but grass is there if you'll just give yourself.

Grass can't come cheap and all cows need a barn, overhead like the sound of those jet planes afar.

Life is a mystery, no one knows what's right, only thing we cows can do is consume these fumes, this sweet-spring grass.

No time to think, time is money.

Winding down this whistling valley, this train inhumane, this world is gone;

I've no time to lie upon this place where I can't belong.

Money to feed, money to be, money to breathe, money to leave.

Leave, leave is something all cows want to do, why?

A barn to roost, means no cow in flight.

And flight divides the cows from the mice.

These mice have thrice what a cow spends on life.

But how can a mouse live a life without the crown of a vice.

This grass gives us cows a crown, a right to rule, a grasp on life, or so we think as we see out our lives.

So all aboard the consumer highway, make sure you have the gas, it's half price.