Butter 歌词

I got a gift of butter, now Good butter it was claimed to be I dont think it was from a cow And if it was, it cowed me A beard was growing on the stuff A goatish beard without a doubt Ah. it was sickly, sour and rough With poison juices seeping out Ah, it was slick. ah, it was grey I dont think any goat produced it I had to face it every day Oh, how I wish I had refused it The salts a thing it never knew In fact Im sure they never met It sprouted spots of green and blue It made me ill. Im not right yet 'Twas made of grease and wax and fat And substances too vile to utter You may be sure that after that Ive rather lost the taste for butter