Kicked, Original By Gerry Hubbard

“Paul’s been kicked”, Aunt Madeline said, through the old crank phone we had “A window’s broke, an artery’s cut and he’s bleeding pretty bad.” “He was in the barn just doing chores, gettin’ milk ready to send When he got kicked through a window by that Ayeshire on the end.” So Mom came running to our barn where we were milking cows And said, “LaVerne, go get the car, Paul needs a doctor now!” So we pulled off the milk machines, shut down the vacuum pump And in a fifty-one green Chevy, both of us did jump We made the mile to Uncle Earle’s, the peddle to the floor And came up fast to a skidding stop beside the red barn door Paul was there beside the barn, both arm’s were wrapped in white We could see the bright blood seeping through and his eyes and lips were tight “I should’ve killed her long ago”, he said with a rueful grin “That bitch gets out and kicks like hell now see the shape I’m in.” The nearest doc in Middleburg was twenty-miles away And we’ve never drove that Guinea road as fast as on that day We took him to Doc Lyons, got his bone deep cuts all stitched And he mostly said on the ride back home, “I’m gonna kill that bitch” But he healed fast and has the scars and he never killed that cow But I’ll bet it all comes back to him when he thinks about it now That summer night, the shattered glass, those bruised and bloody arms And the times that only can be had by working on a farm And I bet he shares with a lot of us a kind of soothing fact. If you’re raised up on a dairy farm, life’s easy after that.