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The Races

Joe showed up at the races,

With a horse that sure could run.

And When the dust had settled,

He'd outrun every one.

The record books were altered.

Famous bloodlines all took heed,

Of a horse no one'd heard of

That was blessed with blinding speed.

Reporters cornered Joe inside

A stall and closed the doors.

And they said, "we want the scoop

On that amazing horse of yours."

"So tell us, sir, how old is he

And where-all has he raced?"

Joe said, "He's eight and Up

'till now he's not been any place."

The newsmen all seemed baffled,

Disbelief was in the air.

"With speed like his, how come

you never raced him anywhere?"

Joe said, "I would have raced him,

But speed's a tricky thing.

I couldn't catch the bugger

'till he pulled up lame this spring."

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