In the corral near the barn that one ain't cow pox.
It's a pestilence that's way worse than swine flu.
Just as well blow your whole herd up with a mortar.
Or the US FDA will make some glue.

If you be unluckly and your herd encounters,
It's the end and there's no help for cows insane,
A machine gun totin' cowboy with a shock prong,
Will send them greener pastures this is plain.

Mad cow disease, this beef's not for cuisine,
This is one throng that is long gone, no more clover.
Mad cow disease, it will turn their brains green,
You won't ever do no ranchin' here again.

You won't get a dime for that rib prime I tell you,
So just watch that stray, it's not your property.
Then you'll have to rename your old ranch to Trashville,
You'll be headin' for a state called bankruptcy.

Nothing left but these old carcases to gather,
And that PETA group says to animals be kind.
And I swear if I hear from them one more lecture,
I will slap their eyeballs off until they're blind.

Mad cow disease, this beef's not for cuisine,
This is one throng that is long gone, no more clover.
Mad cow disease, it will turn their brains green,
You won't ever do no ranchin' here again.