The Milk Cow Song (OZET Protest Song)

My neighbor had a milk cow
that he bought for fifty rubles
from a cousin who had won it
playing poker with the Mayor
though the Mayor didn’t own it
it belonged to Village Twenty
and he lied and told the farmers that their cow had just gone missing.

So my neighbor with his milk cow
fattened up the local children
and the women all adored him
and the mooing drove me crazy.
I believe the cow had nightmares
I would hear it crying murder
through the quiet Summer evenings,
through the Winter’s blackest midnights,
and it didn’t stop at sunrise,
though its moos became contented
that the nightmare time was over
and the milking time was nearing.

In the Spring I lost my patience
and appeared before the Council
to demand my neighbor’s milk cow
be remanded to its village
or at least placed in the dairy
where our common cows were sheltered
after all, this was the OZET,
and what one man owned we all owned.

Was it right that he should use it
to put cream into his coffee
and put butter on his rye bread
and seduce the local women
when my coffee tasted bitter
and my nights were so tormented?

Well, the council members sent me
to the hall while they debated.
I had barely finished rolling
my first cigarette before they
sent a bailiff from the chamber
to arrest me on three charges,
and the Chairman of the Council
read each charge with bitter diction:

Allegation One was libel
toward the Mayor of the Village
that had lost its favorite milk cow,
and the second charge extortion,
and the final count against me
was conspiracy to something
I could not make out before they
dragged me kicking from the chamber.

And I guess I had it coming
if I think upon my motives
as I wait down here in prison
for my unknown day of freedom.

There’s no God out here in Heaven
that would second-guess the wisdom
of the Mighty and the Duly
and the Righteously Appointed
to the Regiment of Justice
for the Safety of the People
and Longevity of OZET

No, you don’t fuck with judgement
of The Solomonic Council
of our dear collective home.