Turkey Scoot

Run turkey, run! The farmer's on his way; Thanksgiving's 'round the corner, And he ain't here to play! You can crouch behind the sofa, Or somewhere in the den; The faintest little gobble, Will surely do you in! There's safety in the outhouse, But that won't do no good; The stench will kill you swiftly, Quicker than a hatchet would! Go slide beneath a tractor, Or wiggle below some hay; You're on the farmer's menu, And he ain't got all day! Dive into that mud pit, Grunt like a dirty hog; There ain't no sanctuary, Inside a hollow log! Try this on for size, I'll tell you what to do; Stand and face the farmer, Then start to holler, "MOO!!" He might say you're loco, Your meat could make him sick; It's the best that I can do, I'd suggest you do it quick! If this act fails you, The dinner bell will ring; I'll be at the table, My favorite part's the wing!