The path we all cross,

The humans taking it over,

We have no place to go,

We have not a home,

We have not a pasture,

We have not a farm,

We have not a barn,

We have not our charm,

Bonded together like ducks in a row, 

All we want to know,

Is how to find a home,

One not too small,

One not too big,

One not too tiny,

One not too thin,

One the humans can’t take,

Like mail from a box,

But one we can call our own,

So we don’t turn to meat,

So we don’t turn to dust,

One with metal,

That takes long to rust,

So we can live together,

So it’s not me,

 So it's us,

So that we can feel safe in the hay that we lay,

We wish to find a home in the day,

If we find that place at night,

The owners might have a fright,

Do we really want that to happen,

Or do we just want to live with a passion,

Like the humans can do,

But were not seen,

As human to you,

Because we are only cows,

Cows that go moo.