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my father was a horse
my mother was a mule
I look like my mother and act like
my father …of course
with your weight on my back
I’m bound to go a mile or two
with no intentions on giving up…but
listen up… when I’ve had enough
I’m subject to buck
I won’t mumble a word of complaint
under your oppressing restraint
I’ll pack and pull tired and aching
until I feel by back breaking
from undertaking too much weight
because I know that there’s no use
for a broke back mule
so I’m telling you
I look like my mother
I act like my father
when I’ve had enough... of course
I’m subject to buck
