Ten Hungry Vultures

Hungry vultures; there were ten, just sitting in a tree One fell out and bit the dust while my wife made my tea Hungry vultures; there were nine, among the leaves so green One chewed dirt as my wife scrubbed the tractor’s tyres clean Hungry vultures; there were eight, just sat there on a branch One dropped off, devoid of breath, while my wife cleaned the ranch Hungry vultures; there were seven, in that tree so high One fell, due to sudden death, while my wife baked a pie Hungry vultures; there were six, all hid behind a twig One fell down while my wife caught and barbecued a pig Hungry vultures; there were five, sat in that sycamore One crashed down, with quite a splat, while my wife swept the floor Hungry vultures; there were four, sat on the highest bough One smashed into bloodied ground as my wife milked the cow Hungry vultures; there were three, sat high above the trunk One dropped off while my wife cleared the beer cans I had drunk Hungry vultures; there were two, just sitting in a nest One dropped dead while I sat in a chair and had a rest Hungry vulture; just the one, watched my wife make a trifle He’s dead because she’s angry, and a crack shot with a rifle Hungry vultures; there are none, now sitting in the tree My wife is cooking vultures, but her rifle’s trained on me