Fat and docile, big and dumb   They look so stupid, they aren't much fun   Cows aren't fun      They eat to grow, grow to die   Die to be et at the hamburger fry   Cows well done      Nobody thunk it, nobody knew   No one imagined the great cow guru   Cows are one      He hid in the forest, read books with great zeal   He loved Che Guevera, a revolutionary veal   Cow Tse Tongue      He spoke about justice, but nobody stirred   He felt like an outcast, alone in the herd   Cow doldrums      He mooed we must fight, escape or we'll die   Cows gathered around, cause the steaks were so high   Bad cow pun      But then he was captured, stuffed into a crate   Loaded onto a truck, where he rode to his fate   Cows are bummed      He was a scrawny calf, who looked rather woozy   No one suspected he was packing an Uzi   Cows with guns      They came with a needle to stick in his thigh   He kicked for the groin, he pissed in their eye   Cow well hung      Knocked over a tractor and ran for the door   Six gallons of gas flowed out on the floor   Run cows run!      He picked up a bullhorn and jumped up on the hay   We are free roving bovines, we run free today      We will fight for bovine freedom   And hold our large heads high   We will run free with the Buffalo, or die   Cows with guns      They crashed the gate in a great stampede   Tipped over a milk truck, torched all the feed   Cows have fun      Sixty police cars were piled in a heap   Covered in cow pies, covered up deep   Much cow dung      Black smoke rising, darkening the day   Twelve burning McDonalds, have it your way      We will fight for bovine freedom   And hold our large heads high   We will run free with the Buffalo, or die   Cows with guns      The President said "enough is enough      These uppity cattle, its time to get tough"   Cow dung flung      The newspapers gloated, folks sighed with relief   Tomorrow at noon, they would all be ground beef   Cows on buns      The cows were surrounded, they waited and prayed   They mooed their last moos,   they chewed their last hay   Cows out gunned      The order was given to turn cows to whoppers   Enforced by the might of ten thousand coppers   But on the horizon surrounding the shoppers      Came the deafening roar of chickens in choppers      We will fight for bovine freedom   And hold our large heads high   We will run free with the Buffalo, or die   Cows with guns