Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Here we board, 5 thousand cows,
hooves on deck, with solemn vows.
A swimming plastic skyscraper with slides and bars
It floats, no matter where, main thing far
[Verse 2]
Sheep in droves, baa-ing along,
Following the herd, a mainstream song.
All packed tight, a motto Shirt jam,
No need for grass, just pass the ham.
[Pre-Chorus]
With mast chicks tweeting, pecking at seed,
A giant swimming coop, it's all they need.
Pig pens with a view, cheap perfume smell,
Sailing the seas, a barnyard swell.
[Chorus]
Herds on board, an awkward sight,
Clucking, mooing through the night.
Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner on command,
Just prefab buffet lines, on sea, not land.
[Verse 3]
One ant is pretty nice and cute,
5000 ants, its time to shoot.
Mass tourism is way to cheap,
Charge way more and quiet keep
[Verse 4]
Every corner, a new stable stall,
Pigs in blankets, having a ball.
Mast chickens decked in tiny vests,
A poultry pageant, among the rest.
[Pre-Chorus]
Cattle class, but not as you know,
A floating farm, a livestock show.
Every creature, from farm to deck,
A nautical journey, what the heck.
[Instrumental]
[Pre-Chorus]
Cattle class, but not as you know,
A floating farm, a livestock show.
Every creature, from farm to deck,
A nautical journey, what the heck.
[Instrumental]
[Chorus]
Herds on board, no grassy field,
Concrete under hoof, no yield.
Packed like sardines, in pens so tight,
But oh, the buffet’s a farmer’s delight.
[Outro]
So here's to the herds, on their cruise so grand,
A tale of tails, on sea, not land.
From coop to cabin, from sty to stern,
A floating farm, from which we learn:
Life’s not just grazing on the field,
Sometimes it’s about the buffet yield.
[Instrumental]
[Chorus]
Herds on board, no grassy field,
Concrete under hoof, no yield.
Packed like sardines, in pens so tight,
But oh, the buffet’s a farmer’s delight.
[Outro]
So here's to the herds, on their cruise so grand,
A tale of tails, on sea, not land.
From coop to cabin, from sty to stern,
A floating farm, from which we learn:
Life’s not just grazing on the field,
Sometimes it’s about the buffet yield.
[Instrumental]
