(- dedication written by Sunday Smith)
59 chickens all in the Allagash
wanderin' and weepin over who's a been a creepin' (cinnamon buns w/ icing in September)
in and out of the pen, stealing pigs and eating my cobbed corn, dog and hash
brown as my markers and yellow as Waikiki
makin' a mess when Farmer ain't be nowhere to be seen
peaches and cream, Inspiral Carpets
oh god, bring it on to the 60th chicken minus one
mammy left the rooster's all alone to impregnate nothing but a sorry ass cornish hen
heck of a fight
pickles all night, creamed wheat and webbed feet
MONSTERS
chickens are damned monsters without lungs
chickens can't breathe correctly so i breathe for them
airbags and all, i give them the golden iron lung for the breath of freedom from Mammy
Miss Mammy Glands
she is the fair maiden of Titus Glorious Titan
deep fried and country finger lickin
romp around in the mud, bock bock 59 chickens in my dreams
countin' and schemin' and dreamin
chickens in the calculus, babies chickens in the incubator
incubus
of that missing chicken
one chicken let loose from father's noose
trying to infect me, man i'd rather eat elk than chicken
bones in my throne
Titus, give me the ill chicken on the dope magic stick
chickens on sale and chickens on the prowl
ain't gonna fool me this time
dumpling