Tonight, I spied them, crouching in their cramped and crowded pens
Here and there a randy rooster, rows and rows of squatty hens
And I know that all day long they've scratched and pecked to meet their ends--
But it's midnight now in sector, and the chickens aren't asleep.

Is it the explosions, or the fumes of passing tanks?
Has their daily chicken-effort gone without sufficient thanks?
For it's midnight in this town along the green Euphrates' banks
And we're rolling back to base, but still the chickens are not sleeping.

Don't they know that we've been sent to set their erstwhile captors free?
To allow them to be garnished with a slice of liberty?
But I guess that, as a chicken, wouldn't mean jack shit to me
I just couldn't help but wonder why the chickens aren't asleep.

01/23/2005

Posted on 01/23/2005
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