When I was a young turkey, new to the coop
My big brother Mike took me out on the stoop
Then he sat me down, and he spoke real slow
And he told me there was something that I had to know
His look and his tone I will always remember
When he told me of the horrors of every November
"Come about August, now listen to me
Each day you'll get six meals instead of just three
And soon you'll be thick, where once you were thin
And you'll grow a big rubbery thing under your chin
And then one morning when you're warm in your bed
In'll burst the farmer's wife and hack off your head
Then she'll pluck all your feathers so you're bald 'n pink
And scoop out your insides, leave ya lyin' in the sink
And then comes the worst part," he said, not bluffing
"She'll spread your cheeks and pack your rear full of stuffing."
Well, the rest of his words were too grim to repeat
I sat on the stoop like a winged piece of meat
And decided right there to avoid being cooked
I'd have to lay low and remain overlooked
I began a new diet of nuts and granola
High-roughage salads, juice and diet cola
And as they ate pastries, chocolates and crepes
I stayed in my room doing Jane Fonda tapes
I maintained my weight of two pounds and a half
And tried not to notice when the bigger birds laughed
But 'twas I who was laughing, under my breath
As they chomped and they chewed, ever closer to death
And sure enough when November rolled 'round
I was the last turkey left in the entire compound
So now I'm a pet in the farmer's wife's lap
I haven't a worry, so I eat and I nap
She held me today, while sewing and humming
Then smiled right at me and said: "Christmas is coming