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Wild Horse My uncle used to make home brew. He always had a barrel or two, Made out of oak and he would say He made the finest brew that way. One time he hauled an empty out Into the field and set about To fill it to the very brink, With water for his horse to drink. Next day when we sat down to eat And all complained about the heat, We heard a whinny, strange and wild. My uncle's horse, so calm and mild, Was running madly here and there, With rolling eyes and flying hair He bucked and jumped and shook his head. It looked as though he might have fed On loco weed, but soon we found The reason he was dashing round. He drank a half a barrel and he Was just as drunk as he could be! |
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