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Chicken Pickin
What sort of chicken would you be if you were to be a chicken?
A Bantam chicken I would be, yes, a Bantam rooster
‘Cause I could zip around my territory as fast as any rocket booster
I could outrun all my enemies, (especially the cook!
No chance of this Bantam chickadee going in his barbaric book!)
I could fly above their heads I could, I could dash between their knees
There’s no way these crazy carnivores are going to eat me!
I’d have my chooky harem, and a flock of my own chicken
We’d all wander o’er the countryside grubs and greens a-pickin’
A little beak or two of water from a pond or from a stream
Would keep us chookies happy: The perfect chookie dream
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