I’m a big fan of Andrew Peterson’s songwriting. I had always wanted to learn how to play a quirky little instrument like the ukulele. From the time I first heard Andrew play one of his songs on the charango, a South American instrument that sounds similar to the uke, I immediately wanted one of my own. This, for me, was an adventure in creating and weaving a tale from the depths of my sometimes strange and random imagination. It is the story of a thoroughbred racehorse that would rather be a cow. It is a goofy song, I admit, but like our anti-hero, Waterloo, perhaps there is more to the story than first meets the eye. Written March 20-28, 2002.

he was a has-been steed running break-neck speed
but all too oft forgot his purpose
the gods would smile on Waterloo’s early mile
until the final stretch

where upon the final bend he forgot that he could win
and settled down into a lazy gait
until he reached a patch of the sweetest, greenest grass
and he would stop for awhile to graze

a horse, of course, will always be a horse
unless, of course, that horse thinks that he’s a cow
you can lead a horse to water but you can’t get him to swaller
even if you’re the first to show him how

the jockey aghast at this thoroughbred’s lapse
and wondered what was the matter
in the same manner did his lore grow grander
than when Waterloo lost the triple crown
he kept the bettors betting while all the debtors kept forgetting
that Waterloo would always let them down

a horse, of course, will always be a horse
unless, of course, that horse thinks that he’s a cow
you can lead a horse to water but you can’t get him to swaller
even if you’re the first to show him how

some horses were born for glory
some horses were born for the plow
but old Waterloo was born for forgetting
all the laughter that he brought to the crowds
’cause Waterloo would always let them down