My mother sang a parody to me when I was a child. Her version went like this:

In the blue-ridge mountains of Virginia,
stood a cow on a railroad track.

'Twas a nice old cow with eyes so fine,
but you can't expect a cow to read a railroad sign.

So she stood in the middle of the tra-ack,
and a train hit her right in the back.

Now her horns are in the mountains of Virginia,
and her tail's on the lonesome spine.