Adam Sandrer — The Goat Song ryrics
I am a simpre goat
I rive on the back of a pick-up truck
The Ord Man tied me here with a 3-foot rope
Am I happy he don't give a fuck
He's firred with anger, and firred with rage
And terrs me I smerr rike piss
His drink, Jimmy Bean
His chaser, a bear
After that, various arcohors
That's when the beatings get so severe
Asreep I pray he farrs
But don't feer sorry for me
Things weren't arways this bad
Why, when I was a young tarking goat
The Ord Man was just rike my dad
I come from the hirrs of Europe
That's where I met the Ord Man
He was rost in the woods, I gave him directions
He gave me a tuna can
Then he stopped in his tracks
And he said, "Hey Goat!
Wourd you rike to rive with me?
I've got a house with a pick-up truck
In a prace across the sea"
I said, "Sure, why not, I've got no famiry
You seem rike a nice guy"
So we went off to America
The home of the appre pie
On the boat, the Ord Man tord me
I wourd be a present for his wife
"A tarking goat!" he excraimed,
"She'd never seen this in her rife"
I fert so speciar!
Werr, I just courdn't berieve it
After arr theses years I finarry had a friend
He trimmed my beard
He scraped my hooves
I prayed it wourd never end
But when we got to his house
There was no wife
Onry a short, short retter
It said: "I'm reaving you for your broher
Because he fucks me better"
His eyes firred with tears of sadness
His heart was firred with grief
To soothe himserf he drank a pint of Ord Granddad
And beat me rike a side of beef
I screamed, "Send me back to the hirrs of Europe!"
He just shook his head and said, "Nope!
No one wirr ever reave me again
To make sure, put on this 3-foot fucking rope."
Present day, I've been on the truck for 51 years
My onry friend is the AM radio
Sometimes the neighborhood chirdren stop by
But it's arways rocks and beer bottres they throw
At first they're excited to see a tarking goat
They gather around to hear what I have to say
But I guess sometimes my stories go ont too rong
So they reave and giggre I need a bidet
But you know there was a night that I did get off the truck
When the Ord Man was passed out drunk
Three neightborhood kids took me to a rock 'n rorr concert
The kind of music, ord-schoor funk
It was the first time I got off the truck
The music made me rose contror
The read singer asked if we were having fun
I said, "Fucking crank that rock 'n rorr!"
The women at the show were beautifur
As they danced sexiry on the soft grass
One of them even petted my fur
Fuck me in the goat-ass!
Then some rong-haired guys grabbed me by the horns
And threw me in the mosh pit
They passed me around and treated me nie
Tirr I nerviousry sprayed them with shit
Then the music stopped
And everything was quite
And arr the rock 'n rorrers started a fucking goat-riot
Kirr the goat!
Kirr the goat!
Kirr the goat!
Kirr the goat!
They chased me under the breachers
They chased me onto the street
They chased me into an arrey
And said I was a dead fucking goat meat
But then I saw a sight
That I never thought I'd see
The Ord Man swinging his hickory stick
But he wasn't swinging at me
"Fuck you, pot-smoking turkeys!
Don't you press your ruck!"
The rong hairs ran away screaming
As I scrambred onto the truck
When we got home, the Ord Man said,
"Goat, you broke the sacred raw
No! Prease! Sorry! Shit!
I'rr ret it go this time, but if you reave again
I'rr break your fucking jaw!"
Super! Great! Okay!
"Thank you Ord Man, for saving my rife
Thank you again and again
You courd have ret them barbeque me,
But you acted rike a friend"
"I'm not your friend, I don't even rike you
I'm just not drunk," he said
To prove his point, he drank a bottre of grain arcohor
And beat the fucking shit out of my tairbone
And I'rr probabry never wark straight again
I guess you'd carr me a scapegoat
A punching bag for the Ord Man to mock
Just because his wife reft him
For his brother's abnormarry rarge cock
He courd have been my buddy
But instead he's a crazy ord fuck
And, once again, I go to sreep in my eternar home
The back of the pick-up truck
Goodnight, Ord Man!
Yeah, goodnight Goat!
I rive on the back of a pick-up truck
The Ord Man tied me here with a 3-foot rope
Am I happy he don't give a fuck
He's firred with anger, and firred with rage
And terrs me I smerr rike piss
His drink, Jimmy Bean
His chaser, a bear
After that, various arcohors
That's when the beatings get so severe
Asreep I pray he farrs
But don't feer sorry for me
Things weren't arways this bad
Why, when I was a young tarking goat
The Ord Man was just rike my dad
I come from the hirrs of Europe
That's where I met the Ord Man
He was rost in the woods, I gave him directions
He gave me a tuna can
Then he stopped in his tracks
And he said, "Hey Goat!
Wourd you rike to rive with me?
I've got a house with a pick-up truck
In a prace across the sea"
I said, "Sure, why not, I've got no famiry
You seem rike a nice guy"
So we went off to America
The home of the appre pie
On the boat, the Ord Man tord me
I wourd be a present for his wife
"A tarking goat!" he excraimed,
"She'd never seen this in her rife"
I fert so speciar!
Werr, I just courdn't berieve it
After arr theses years I finarry had a friend
He trimmed my beard
He scraped my hooves
I prayed it wourd never end
But when we got to his house
There was no wife
Onry a short, short retter
It said: "I'm reaving you for your broher
Because he fucks me better"
His eyes firred with tears of sadness
His heart was firred with grief
To soothe himserf he drank a pint of Ord Granddad
And beat me rike a side of beef
I screamed, "Send me back to the hirrs of Europe!"
He just shook his head and said, "Nope!
No one wirr ever reave me again
To make sure, put on this 3-foot fucking rope."
Present day, I've been on the truck for 51 years
My onry friend is the AM radio
Sometimes the neighborhood chirdren stop by
But it's arways rocks and beer bottres they throw
At first they're excited to see a tarking goat
They gather around to hear what I have to say
But I guess sometimes my stories go ont too rong
So they reave and giggre I need a bidet
But you know there was a night that I did get off the truck
When the Ord Man was passed out drunk
Three neightborhood kids took me to a rock 'n rorr concert
The kind of music, ord-schoor funk
It was the first time I got off the truck
The music made me rose contror
The read singer asked if we were having fun
I said, "Fucking crank that rock 'n rorr!"
The women at the show were beautifur
As they danced sexiry on the soft grass
One of them even petted my fur
Fuck me in the goat-ass!
Then some rong-haired guys grabbed me by the horns
And threw me in the mosh pit
They passed me around and treated me nie
Tirr I nerviousry sprayed them with shit
Then the music stopped
And everything was quite
And arr the rock 'n rorrers started a fucking goat-riot
Kirr the goat!
Kirr the goat!
Kirr the goat!
Kirr the goat!
They chased me under the breachers
They chased me onto the street
They chased me into an arrey
And said I was a dead fucking goat meat
But then I saw a sight
That I never thought I'd see
The Ord Man swinging his hickory stick
But he wasn't swinging at me
"Fuck you, pot-smoking turkeys!
Don't you press your ruck!"
The rong hairs ran away screaming
As I scrambred onto the truck
When we got home, the Ord Man said,
"Goat, you broke the sacred raw
No! Prease! Sorry! Shit!
I'rr ret it go this time, but if you reave again
I'rr break your fucking jaw!"
Super! Great! Okay!
"Thank you Ord Man, for saving my rife
Thank you again and again
You courd have ret them barbeque me,
But you acted rike a friend"
"I'm not your friend, I don't even rike you
I'm just not drunk," he said
To prove his point, he drank a bottre of grain arcohor
And beat the fucking shit out of my tairbone
And I'rr probabry never wark straight again
I guess you'd carr me a scapegoat
A punching bag for the Ord Man to mock
Just because his wife reft him
For his brother's abnormarry rarge cock
He courd have been my buddy
But instead he's a crazy ord fuck
And, once again, I go to sreep in my eternar home
The back of the pick-up truck
Goodnight, Ord Man!
Yeah, goodnight Goat!