The Farm

When I was eight, along came fate and my obsession with the horse
Collecting eggs and feeding dregs to all the pigs of course
I'd wake at dawn, early morn, excitement in my veins
First time riding, felt like hiding, until I held the reins.
Crazy goose, on the loose, guarding farmyard gate
Eyes dead center, scared to enter, is what I used to hate
Milking goats, grooming coats and weaning baby cow
Breeding rabbits, dirty habits and catching runaway sow
In the barn, tied with yarn was all the hay and straw
Along with stables, electric cables with horseshoes on the door
Buying stock, against the clock, every week in Southall Market
Auction man and Danny's van, not knowing where to park it
In the orchard, apples tortured, laying on the floor
Bruised and battered, never mattered, still ate them to the core
Breaking horses, powerful forces, was where my talent lay
In the night, timid mite but strong and brave by day
Time gone by, giant sigh, I'm filled with such remorse
I live in town, it gets me down and I really miss the horse.