Oh, aspirin found in willow bark
Before the advent of drug sharks
You are still cheap and ease our pain
So we can get to work again
We work on these conveyer belts
Tearing the guts of chickens out.
It’s our vocation, so they say
As they give us our mean pay
Mine is so low I can’t pay rent
So for some Benefits I am sent
The lady thought I was a Czech
And so I would not answer back
But I am from the Isle of Wight
The trouble is, I’m not too bright.
But when you buy your chicken curry
Think of how our fingers hurry
Tearing out those intestines
Faster than a bird can scream
For the chickens were not dead.
Till Henry Tudor went to bed.
He penetrated their insides
Cut off their heads and made them wives.
For with no heads, they need no crowns
And he cannot see their frowns.
He got tired and wanted new
Advertised in Waterloo.
So my boss bought all he had
On the whole, they don’t taste bad.
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