Chicken little took a gun
The day that he turned 51
He put the gun beneath his head
Pulled the trigger...now he's dead

He made sure that he did die
And every birthday you will cry
You tried thrice to do the same
Try once more to win the game

The guilt you feel will fuel a fire
Face the facts...he did expire
You enabled like you always do
So that gun killed not one but two

It tore a family right apart
It didn't melt your blackened heart
So sit upon your stolen throne
And wait to die alone...alone