A parody of young Michael Jackson's "Ben". Pippin singing like one of the severely beschnitten! Pippin realises that his ability to hit the same notes as Michael has diminished over time... Be sure to check the lyrics as you listen!
Hens, well, roosters think that they’re hard core
Flap and founder when they try to soar
With these hens I have at home
Egg purchases postponed
I’d recommend, you see
You get a hen or three
(And you’ll spend less, you’ll see)
Hens are always running here and there
(Unaware!)
Like they are chock full of compressed air
(Full of air!)
If you check out their behind
And eggs aren’t what you find
There's someplace they should be
On the rotisserie
(And make a feast for me)
They roost away, ‘till dawn’s nigh
Fowls do fuss, now at five
(I’ll roast a few, wings and thighs)
(Bowls of soup, served with chives)
Pens, of chickens are a fowl array
(manurey grey)
Nests a-glisten from the turds they spray
(dirty hay)
So before those eggs you chew
Yes, sterilize them, do
I.Q.s at minus ten
Nothing has no brain like hens
(No brain)
Like hens
(Like hens)
Like hens