The Bird Is the Word
I don’t know what I’m complaining about,
it’s not like I’ve been cuffed,
All I have to do is show up for dinner.
After all it’s the bird that got stuffed.
It’s not like they’re asking a lot from me
they won’t work me till I’ve croaked,
All I have to do is show up and eat.
After all it’s the bird that got smoked.
I can’t tell you that they’ll torture me
and it seems to be reasonably priced,
All I have to do is visit for a while.
After all it’s the bird that got sliced.
I could tell them things to make them laugh
until their gravy becomes splattered,
All I’d have to do is tell a joke to them.
After all it’s the bird that got plattered.
I think that it smells good enough that I’ll eat
until they claim my leg’s been hollowed,
All I have to do is not complain about things.
After all it’s the bird that got swallowed.
I’ve never given it much thought before
but a bird’s life is really kind of murky
I guess I’d rather be the Thanksgiving guest today
than be the Thanksgiving Turkey.
Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011
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