Will left Austin abruptly at one point and moved out to his Dad’s ranch outside of San Angelo. Living in the old farmhouse out there, he spent a lot of time with the landscape and the livestock — especially some goats that stayed near the farmhouse and liked to climb on his car.
We always say a prayer for a good round-up
I wore long johns & boots, had beer in my cup.
There in the corral was the old crazy goat:
God had just dropped her in, quiet and perfect-like.
That tan little nanny lost a kid awhile back.
She still thinks it’s around, or something like that
She gets off by her herself, yelping for that kid —
Must’ve been special, we’ve got a lot of other kids…
The thing about those goats is
they’re always fetching up the rear of their kids
Off a-playing, trying to steer those offspring back around their way.
The crazy one’s tan and round and pretty
But she wouldn’t make a dime in a town like a city.
You gotta worry enough about them
Without having to make a wider circle.
We’ve got coyotes and bobcats
Harsh winters, cattle, and mean old donkeys they were:
It’s hard for a little goat to make it.
Sometimes in the evening when I have a beer,
I think sometimes a goat just disappears
Sometimes, she has a little patch of white around her belly.
The grass ain’t all that tall
Now, when she started going crazy, I thought,
I’ll sell that goat.
She makes me think something’s wrong, I put on my coat,
That cute and curious creature —
What is she really looking for?
Now I’ve gotten used to her and it’s a healthy space I give her.
She doesn’t mean to cause trouble — she’s just trying to live.
She keeps in shape, moves around a lot.
You know the wind is a factor here, week to week,
The goats try to talk, the wind can speak.
Sometimes I see her and in the corner of her eye,
I know she knows I know.
Well, I always say a prayer for a good round-up —
I wore long johns and boots, had beer in my cup.
Down in the corral is the old crazy goat
God had just dropped her in, all quiet and perfect-like.
Special guest appearance by our Grandfather, G.M.C. Massey — with a pet goat.
Crazy old goats are what we become. Putting up with goats is easier than some folk. Bemused!