02-20-2019, 04:25 AM
Old horse barns have their secret yarns
about the men who once lurked there
Their musty smell tells of souls who fell
neath the charms of a wanton mare
The evening loon by the summer moon
sings tales that make sinners blush
About the fatal lure that has no cure
Of desire that turns brains to mush
It was in such a place that I lost all grace
and fornicated all that night
That mare’s great rump I had to hump
Though lose my soul I might
I had long taken care of her mane so fair
That flowed o’er her neck like a veil
I might’ve saved my soul and been left whole
Had I just not looked under her tail
Then it was God’s great word that I clearly heard
“If a man lies with a beast he must die”
To this finality, I sited a technicality
"Lord I stood on my toes to get that high"
(originally posted on Beast Forum)