Sometimes we don't know when we're better off.

The Wayward Hen

Whatta ya mean I ain’t a chicken, didn’t I just get outta that egg?
Lordy lordy what’s this world comin to, Reckon now I’ve gotta beg,

You say I cain’t eat that feed. It’s only made for the selected hen ,
I belong away down yonder feedin on stuff in the cattle pen,

Boy now if that don’t take the cake, Them chickens ain’t no better than me,
It’s tough rejected, ,Guess I ain’t the chicken that I ought to be,

But here we go , I gotta take my selection like all the rest,
They’re gonna sell me cheap , cause I ain’t the best,

They sat me there in a cardboard box, cold on the cement floors,
Of one of them cheap and Thrifty Bargain livestock stores,

Well this lady bought me and put me in a pen,
Twas a whole lot better than where I had been,

The feed was Ok, but I’d never see again,
That high priced grain for the selected hen,

Yeah, I missed my family, but the lady’s other hens ,
Were kinda old and crotchety, but took me in,

Life is slow and quiet , I reckon it’s good,
Guess I didn’t make the grade and never understood,

Why the rest of my family was treated like kings,
They , were given the best of all the good things,

Some folks just get all the luck,
While here with these old Biddies I’m stuck,

I hear the family’s got the best of travels in mind,
You know sightseeing all and tours of that kind,

Oops! their travel trip involved some kind of a Homeless grant,
It was to that famous Foster Farms Processing plant!!!