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defective DNA

Hi, I'm Faye and I am a cowaholic. I started my serious addiction as a cattlehaulic with a four cow trailer and a Ford pickup ................................................................................................>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>etc.,

😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴

In closing I would like to say, while I have kicked the habit of raising my number as the final bid, I still walk past cattle daily and think they would look better in my pasture, but then realize my lawn is no longer zoned as pasture. Walking back on Hayfield Road, I encounter a rattlesnake and realize the Devil is testing me to my limits. Satan just waited till my old age, when I was not packing a Colt six shooter, to force me into turning around and going back and inquiring what was the price on the ranch for sale with the cattle included.

As strong as my addition for raising beef is, I pick up a big rock and send Satan shaking his tail out in the hayfield. Dealing with an inherited addiction, a family tradition, is difficult, but not impossible to kick. Thank you and God bless.
 
A Perversion of the old Hank Williams Jr. song

Ranchers Net Family Tradition

Cattle ranchers have always been a real close family
But lately some of y'all ranch folks have disowned the likes of me
I guess it's because I kind of changed my ambition
Lord, I guess I went and broke my ranching tradition

Y'all get on me, you wanna know
"Faye, why do you share stories, Faye, why do you make joke?
Why must you bore us with the stories that you wrote?"
Over and over I write, with a brand new edition
So, if I reminisce, I'm just carrying on a new ranching tradition

I am very proud of my ranch family name
Although their kind of ranching and mine ain't exactly the same
Stop and think it over, put yourself in my unique position
If I keyboard ranch, it's just a different branch, of a family tradition

So don't ask me
"Faye, why do you write poetry, Faye, why do you make joke?
Why must you share stories, the stories that you wrote?"
If on Hayfield Road and some ol' rattlesnake is trying to interfere with my mission
I say, "Leave me alone, I'm headed to my keyboard at home, it's a new ranching tradition"

Lordy, I have loved me some cows, and I have loved me a steer
And they all tried to kill me, 1980, approaching me from the rear
When the doctor asked me, "Girl, how'd you get in this condition?"
I said, "Ranching and broke bones, is just carrying on an old family tradition"

So don't ask me
"Faye, why do you make rhyme, Faye, why do you make joke?
Why must you share the stories that you wrote?"
Stop and think it over, and you will see I am not a magician
If a rattlesnake gets stoned, when I'm headed home, it's my ranching tradition
 
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I loved the original song and would belt it out along with the radio on the haying tractor but your version fits me better now as well..

Great tune
You have no idea how many great songs I have perverted on those long days on a tractor. 🤣

The Bog of Soggy

"John Deere fell in to a soggy bog of mud
It went down down down, ending with a thud
and it sunk sunk sunk, in that bog of mud, in that bog of mud."


Sung to the tune of George Jones Corvette Song

The John Deere Song

I stopped off at the fuel tanks for some diesel and root beer
The tank took the fuel as my Grandpa loaded up a steer
He said, "Pray for some rain Faye, before 1969
And I lose the ranch and end up in the welfare line."

Oh, it was drier than a empty water pistol
It was the driest ranch around
Hilly and lean, but it was his dream
And it made every banker frown
It was sandy loam, and way fun to disc in
Just thinking of the good days back then

So Gramps handed me his keys and said, "Here take him on to sale"
I just shook my head and then I looked at him, turning rather pale
I said, "Gramps I don't think you understand it ain't indoor jobs for me
It's the smell of diesel and dusty sweat you see”

Lord it was hotter than a Rio Grande pistol
His ranch was the driest thing around
Hilly and lean, it was his dream
And it made every banker frown
No sign of rain, no panic to get, the sparce hay in
I get parched just thinking of those days back then
 
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