The way my grandfather used to sing the "Milk" song was as follows:

I had a horse and we called him Napoleon.
He had hair as fine as silk.
We drive him around with our milk wagon.
When we wanted him to stop we hollered "Milk."

One day when I was out a riding,
Along came a fella with a rig so neat.
Said he to me, "Come on, you rube,
And I'll give you a race right down the street."

So, off we started helter-skelter,
A great big smile upon my face.
When sure as a sinner I was comin' in a winner
When somebody hollered "Milk" and I lost the race!

Lynnelorie, Upstate New York