Thirty-two teats on eight bulbous udders;
twenty-four legs on eight milking stools;
sixteen pails on eight wooden yokes;
eight pretty, buxom maids on eight country lanes.
But that was a yesterday that maybe never was.
Rough hands, scrawny cows, filthy dark barns;
low pay, no hope, working long long days,
broken stools, dirty pails, worn-out working folk.
And what of today; where are the buxom maids?
Two thousand cows in four loafing barns,
one giant parlour with five hundred stalls,
twenty technicians keep ten thousand litres flowing.
And ten million cartons sit in ten million fridges.
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