The bach' that ropes the plungin' cows
Kin mix the biscuits true—
We earn our grub by drippin' brows
And cook it by 'em too,
We do,
We cook it by 'em too.
We like to breathe unbranded air,
Be free of foot and mind,
And go or stay, or sing or swear,
Whichever we're inclined.