We were driving through West Texas
The land of beef and pork
Where they tan the hides of leather
We'd wear back in New York
In a pasture along a roadside
Behind a broke down shake
On the dusky side of evening
We saw a figure dressed in black
And we don't need the sound like we're tripping
But we swear to God we saw Lou Reed
Cow tipping, cow tipping
Hey, Lou, is that you
She said as we pulled to the shoulder
He just said, go screw
And then he turned and tipped one over
Under his pitch and western sky
The colour of food varnish
Hey, man, it's like Bellini
Actually I'm thinkin more like Jim Jarmusch
And we can't say how much we'd been sipping
But we swear to God we saw Lou Reed
Cow tipping, cow tipping
I got the cops on the cell
I said, I gotta little story to tell
Lou Reed's in the cow pen
They said, oooooh, no
Not again
Then we hope our perception isn't slipping
But we swear to God we saw Lou Reed
Cow tipping, cow tipping
Cow tipping, cow tipping...
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