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"Someday, son, all this will be yours"
World's Worst Farmer
Lewis Baumgartner
Baby chicks
We got a hundred baby chicks,
A couple years ago.
Raise your own fried chicken,
That’s the way to go.
Now we knew, we’d save no money
When all expenses were wrote down
But they just taste so much better,
Thank what you buy in town.
We fixed up a brooder house
And made a little pen,
And waited like a couple kids,
For our chickens to come in.
We took ‘em from the box
And handled every chick with care.
They sure were mighty cute,
Just a runnin’ everywhere.
The first night we lost five chicks,
Thru a small crack in the door.
And over the next couple weeks,
The cats got fourteen more.
But we expected some of that,
‘ cause it’s usu’ly true,
When you’re raisin’ baby chicks,
You’ll likely lose a few.
One day when my wife and I,
Neither one were there,
Those chickens all escaped
And scattered everywhere.
Some were in the garden,
Pickin’ out the corn,
Two of them got in the house,
Thru a screen door that was torn.
Some were at the neighbors,
Some were even in the trees,
By the time we got ‘em all corralled,
We were down to forty-three!
When we finally got those chickens raised,
That meat cost seven bucks a pound!
Now they’re not that much better,
Than what you buy in town!
Copyright 2010 World's Worst Farmer.: Humorous Speaker. All Rights Reserved
