This equine treatment ain’t right—
it’s such a frightful sight.
Makin’ me fume, his behavior so coarse.
Cropping is grating;
oh, he’s hitting on queue; it’s a sight that I abhor.
So many have paid to see
horses racing with their jockeys.
The mounts not yet wild;
this one rider scourges with him quirt and spur.
Flanks are in tatters
and starting to shed blood. Bring him up before the bar!
Small ’as boy, he chews mount up.
Oh-oh, here crop comes, he’s a nag beater.
Oh-oh, here crop comes; gives him joy to chew mount up.
Oh-oh, here crop comes, he’s a nag beater.

I sense what the horse will do
as it rounds corner 2—
that’s shed the man; from the back he will depart
and be in tatters;
horses’ hooves will impair the beast and rip him apart.

Equine joy when he’s chewed up.
Oh-oh, here crops comes, he’s a nag beater.
Oh-oh, here crop comes; gives him joy to chew mount up.
So, soon here clops comes from the nag breachers.
Ouch!

So now, here it comes: buck’s deployed and he shoots up,
and then down he comes (on ground) to the nag breachers.
Oh-oh, here they come (these nags are heated!): trots deploy to chew him up.
Ouch, there goes his thumb, thanks to nag breachers.
Ow! Ow! Bye-bye thumb, yanked out. This is not a wholesome sight. Euw!
Ouch! That other thumb has become a mangled reacher.
Ouch, right ear is numb—and the other side too.
Now hearing’s become just a thrum of white noise and pink noise.
Now out pops one thumb. Gross: pops out, pops out, pops out.
So long OS runs, on on! Where’s the end-reacher?
On and on it runs—where’s the end-reacher?! Oh wait, it is coming, whew!
On so long it runs, but here’s the end—reached it!