Chicken Farmer Blues

I call this song the chicken farmer blues.
You might not keep no chickens, but I bet you sometimes feel it too.
Every morning, they make lots of noise; what do they think they know?
Maybe a hawk up in the sky, or just like to hear themselves crow.
All they do is squawk. And all they do is...
All they do is squawk. And all they do is...

Those little girls got wings, but they don't ever fly too high.
'Cause all we ever think about are their eggs, breasts, and thighs.
Sunup to sundown, they set their lives to the clock.
Don't ever make no changes; never stray too far from the flock.
And all they do is squawk. And all they do is...
All they do is squawk. And all they do is...

There's a fox in the hen house; he's going for the kill.
Doesn't matter if he don't make it; you know the next coyote will.
Running from the farmer in his old boots and jeans.
They've learned just what the gleam of a sharpened ax means.
But all they do is squawk. And all they do is...
All they do is squawk. And all they do is...

Sometimes they fly the coop; they bolt right out the door.
But every sundown, they always come back home for more.
I call this song the chicken farmer blues.
You might not keep no chickens, but I bet you sometimes feel it too.
'Cause all we do is squawk. All we do is...
All we do is squawk. All we do is...



Credits
Writer(s): Robert Daniel Irwin
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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