And I lifted up mine eyes
And there I did behold
Streams of rich blessings
Yes surely it was Brown Gold
For I am but a peasant
In a foreign land
And my humble serfdom
Has a dairy farm near at hand
And yon farmer
Spreads the byproduct of chewed grass
Via rotating, spraying device
From his Bovines not his Ass
But this blessed morn
His device to me was very near
And the rotation was non existent
For twas fault in his gear
So unto me was rendered
A stream of liquid manure
Over garden, plants, grass
Fresh, brown and not so pure
Yes the grass is definitely browner
Upon my side of the fence
And I now wear gumboots
In what will make growth rich and dense
And in my moment of questioning
This deposit from spray above
I remembered humble MK childhood
With it's bounty and it's love
And in that humbling instant
I resorted to what I deeply know
And gave thanks for the Brown Gold
That did up my land freely flow
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