The Boss came home from the city
About a year ago,
He couldn't wait to tell us
Things he thought we ought to know,
His voice shook with excitement,
A strange light filled his eyes,
"The old ways are no good ," he said,
"We've got to modernise."
"Computers are the answer -
I've been to a seminar,
The future's in computers
This station will go far!"
He proceeded then to show us
This fancy new machine,
Every beast upon the place
Was listed on the screen.
He'd programmed in each pedigree
And matched the top notch genes
For breeding for the next ten years
By artificial means.
He forecast rising profits,
Science on the move,
I somehow felt the cows and sheep
Would not at all approve.
The best made plans can go astray,
There's truth in that quotation,
'Cos, boy, did all his plans go wrong,
Nearly wrecked the station!
I don't know how the word got out
The stock all acted strange
Red rooster ran for cover,
And kept right out of range.
The cows just showed no sign at all,
Readout dated "passed their season".
I studied them most carefully
To try and find the reason,
They lay in quiet contentment
Cud chewing, bellies full,
A well worn path behind a hedge
Led to Murphy's scrubber bull.
The sheep had quickly followed suit,
How did they get that ram in?
The spring time tallies don't quite match
Controlled lamb programming.
Lady Jane, the thoroughbred,
Has cleared the stockyard fence,
And headed for the foothills,
We haven't seen her since.
The computer's sitting idle,
I think he'd sell it for two pins,
Especially now the Missus
Has presented him with twins,
Two darling baby daughters -
Not the son he'd always planned on,
That machine is by the doorstep
Used for dirty boots to stand on!