An Equestrian's End

The mud is as thick as
treacle in a swines trough.
Mary, my beauty, she has
got a steep stallion and left me to rot.

Round, and round the fields she rides again, like she used to ride me.
Her intenions true, she hides,
That the stallion will soon dead be.

The light of life is now dimming,
the shepard, he sighs his delight.
When the stallion stands in my shoes
He will neigh and put up a fight.

My love, Mary the beauty,
Joins me and says goodnight
And when Silver's gone done his duty
She says he will too see his last night.