run chicken run

Run Chicken Run

the juicier the faster.
Take all your babies,
before they are broilers,
It’s not your fault you’re fat,
some say that we are the brat.

In the end it’s a matter of life,
I suggest you hide away your wife,
And perhaps you shouldn't chatter,
cos our chef is ready with the batter.

Some do admire your brain,
some want to look good on the food chain.
You could try suing God,
but they are going to call you a fraud.
Don't you wish that you could fly,
not knowing we still need only one try.

Anyways, we’ll never know if you ever crossed that road;
Not while you are in the oven as today’s load.