I wrote this in honour of Prince Alfar of Attica, who decreed a ban on cow-tipping — the alleged practice of pushing cows over for fun — during his first reign. Apparently a friend of his, Rhodry the Romantic, had suggested a bit of cow-tipping during a trip from Sydney to Canberra. If you can’t figure out what it’s a filk of, you need to listen to more commercial radio.
Oh, I bet you wonder why I moo
‘Bout your plans for a cow or two
To push it on its side, a tipping spree,
Between the Princess and I, you know we disagree.
It caught us by surprise, we’ve revealed
When we found you in that field, oh oh
We heard it from the bovine,
No more tipping when the crown’s mine
Oh, oh, we heard from the bovine,
That you’re just about to cross the line.
Oh, a cow ain’t supposed to fall,
When I’m Prince, it won’t be done at all.
You bully cows, you lose your life, you see,
‘Cos it’s all an udder crime to me.
You could have saved us the pain
Of hearing all those puns again, but instead…