Year after year
Thanksgiving feast preserver
The Pilgrims started this Thanksgiving thing
All we Turkey’s get is the Ax sling
Slaughtered until lifeless
We live once at least
We the Turkeys have a force
It’s a shame it is the knife and fork
The Pilgrims are satisfied
Turkeys are petrified
We never see eye to eye
We Turkeys can’t even try, but cry
Turkey farms everywhere beware
We intend to revolt
A win or loss protest
Eating Turkey on Thanksgiving we must refuse
The battle is on
Life is where we belong
Being free in every way
Dinner tables shouldn’t be our stay
We need to getaway
That Ax is always in our direction
Main course being the selection
Every year the same question, “Dark or light meat or the wing”
As a Turkey, Thanksgiving is not our thing
We have no protection and no chance of a wing.