Lyrics
I am a simple goat
I live on the back of a pick-up truck
The Old Man tied me here with a 3-foot rope
Am I happy he don't give a fuck
"Hey goat I'm going to beat your head in with a hickory stick"
Sometimes he uses his fists
He's filled with anger, and filled with rage
And tells me I smell like piss
His drink, Jimmy Bean
His chaser, a beer
After that, various alcohols
That's when the beatings get so severe
Asleep I pray he falls
But don't feel sorry for me
Things weren't always this bad
Why, when I was a young talking goat
The Old Man was just like my dad
I come from the hills of Europe
That's where I met the Old Man
He was lost in the woods, I gave him directions
He gave me a tuna can
Then he stopped in his tracks
And he said, "Hey Goat!
Would you like to live with me?
I've got a house with a pick-up truck
In a place across the sea"
I said, "Sure, why not, I've got no family
You seem like a nice guy"
So we went off to America
The home of apple pie
On the boat, the Old Man told me
I would be a present for his wife
"A talking goat!" he exclaimed,
"She'd never seen this in her life"
I felt so special!
Well, I just couldn't believe it
After all these years I finally had a friend
He trimmed my beard
He scraped my hooves
I prayed it would never end
But when we got to his house
There was no wife
Only a short, short letter
It said: "I'm leaving you for your brother
Because he fucks me better"
His eyes filled with tears of sadness
His heart was filled with grief
To soothe himself he drank a pint of Old Granddad
And beat me like a side of beef
I screamed, "Send me back to the hills of Europe!"
He just shook his head and said, "Nope!