(August 4th,1926 / New York City)


It is very much astounding
And somewhat more confounding
What happens when a horse no longer races
If the horse is just a mudder
He can still become a studder
To enjoy his future life that he now faces

Horses done with racing
Find mares so all embracing
Fraternizing with their sexy concubines
When retirement they’re facing
They go female hors-ey chasing
To better all their pony hors-ey blood lines

It surely is a shame
That a man can’t do the same
As thoroughbred, his life would be a blast
He’d have his fill of dames
Enjoying sexist games
And forget his less sexy muted past

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