by Steve Kahn
In the town of Petaluma in 1953
A fearless band of chickens came to set their comrades free.
They’d trained up in the mountains, the valleys and the glens,
This fearless band of chickens, the roosters and the hens.
They blew the gate at midnight, down by Petaluma Road,
And the crowing of the roosters made the warden’s blood run cold.
High up in the towers, guards knelt and said their prayers
As they heard the ninja chickens coming up the stairs.
Range free or die, that’s the chicken’s battle cry.
Range free or die, Range free or die.
Henrietta chicken jumped on the warden’s chest
And as he lay there screaming, pecked the buttons off his vest.
His cries rose to the ceiling and echoed from the walls
As the little pullets chanted darkly in the hall.
Then they got the guards and they brought them up on trial.
They were charged with chickencide, there was no denial.
The judge read the verdict that would set things right, and
47 guards were tenderized that night.
Just as they had come, they vanished in the night.
Inside that chicken prison there was a fearsome sight.
Bits of uniform and tufts of human hair,
And flying from the flag pole was the warden’s underwear.
They’re out there in the darkness, watching what you do
And if you harm a chicken, they’re coming after you.
Vigilante chickens, will come to make a call.
No hears you screaming, as they drag you down the hall.