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Me Dad, he got the goating bug and his eyes -they all went weird
In place of brown were dollar signs, new plans were engineered;
He ignored the sheep, forgot the wool and mutton that won't sell;
The cattle roaming 'round the place - yep; out they went as well.

And in came goats in coloured lots to rule our piece of land,
All dad could do was smile with glee declaring life was grand.
For goats were easy labour - his drinking mates had told him so,
And now his fever pitched on high; he was keen to have a go.

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