Peter Grudzien worked the summer on a dusty farm watching skinny brown cows doing their big flat poos near and yonder and all over the visible America. He hammered in fence posts with sweat in his eyes, he fed the chickens, and he had sex with the farmer's son next to a pond full of frogs that sounded like twanging elastic bands.
The last thing he did, the thing with the farmer's son, was a worry because the Farmer was very anti his son getting bummed/doing a bit of bumming. He'd never vocally expressed any feelings, positive or negative, about homosexuality, but he had bulbous slit eyes, a glossy, flushed complexion, and a funny little bald head. You could just tell. One time he got really angry about pasta not being real food, and lots of other things like that, so...
It was time for Peter Grudzien to leave. One night, after a tearful farewell rimjob from the farmer's son (receiving), he stole a cart and a horse and set off for he knew not where. In the dark, he picked a bad cart and a bad horse. The cart was made from all bits of old wood and tended to want to veer off to the left; the horse had ribs showing, weird distended nipples, and kept making a noise that sounded like coughing and laughing at once.
He had been on the road for about a week. The horse's cough had cleared up, but it was still laughing. Peter Grudzien passed the time by making up songs.
This song in particular: