A lot of Turkeys are decidely jumpy
Its Jack Frost Time again and, it is cold
Farmers ruddy faces have been staring
And they call us names of counties and of gold
Actually God made us, we are Turkeys
Our life is bound up with the pure desire
Not to have our life wrenched from our gentle grasp
And be plucked and stuffed and cooked on some hot fire
But just to pick and peck around the forest
And raise our families with what is God speed
A lot of Turkeys now are very nervous
And a lot will get the chop and they will bleed
That is Christmas, millions of us die for you
to say
Happy Christmas Darling
Have a happy Day
Pulling on our wishbone and just hoping
Whatever wish you make for you comes true
The fact that we are frightened just a minor glitch
But actually I am one of the few
That possibly might just be spared this Christmas
I’m not very pretty any more
Now I will be used I think as pet food for some cat who pulls my bones across some floor
Well I hope it chokes its heart up thats all I can say
One of my sharp bones might just do the trick
At least if I must die to fill some rotten moggies gut
Then at least my sacrifice could make it sick
I don’t much now look foward to December
Its so cold and so uncomfortable to be
listening to your children singing carols
For I know that means they’ll soon be eating me
We huddle in the barn so awfully fearful
And realise the end is very near
The Farmer with his bloody awful apron
Throws us into crates, yes crates of fear
We shiver for our plight we share together
We know whats going to happen we’ve been told
Stunned thats if we’re lucky, our throats cut then de feathered
Hung, and drawn and then described as Gold
Its Jack Frost Time again and, it is cold
Farmers ruddy faces have been staring
And they call us names of counties and of gold
Actually God made us, we are Turkeys
Our life is bound up with the pure desire
Not to have our life wrenched from our gentle grasp
And be plucked and stuffed and cooked on some hot fire
But just to pick and peck around the forest
And raise our families with what is God speed
A lot of Turkeys now are very nervous
And a lot will get the chop and they will bleed
That is Christmas, millions of us die for you
to say
Happy Christmas Darling
Have a happy Day
Pulling on our wishbone and just hoping
Whatever wish you make for you comes true
The fact that we are frightened just a minor glitch
But actually I am one of the few
That possibly might just be spared this Christmas
I’m not very pretty any more
Now I will be used I think as pet food for some cat who pulls my bones across some floor
Well I hope it chokes its heart up thats all I can say
One of my sharp bones might just do the trick
At least if I must die to fill some rotten moggies gut
Then at least my sacrifice could make it sick
I don’t much now look foward to December
Its so cold and so uncomfortable to be
listening to your children singing carols
For I know that means they’ll soon be eating me
We huddle in the barn so awfully fearful
And realise the end is very near
The Farmer with his bloody awful apron
Throws us into crates, yes crates of fear
We shiver for our plight we share together
We know whats going to happen we’ve been told
Stunned thats if we’re lucky, our throats cut then de feathered
Hung, and drawn and then described as Gold
Thats the latest gold standard you understand
We are flesh and blood mate just like you
but sacrifice is putting profits into Farmers Bank accounts and Supermarkets relish all this too
Victims we are victims of this outrage
it is an outrage we would all now say
God never gave the gift of life for you to end it with your knife
and create a reason you call Christmas Day!
Rex Tyler is a Poet, Campaigner, former owner of an organic shop of 30 years, and Public Speaker living in Berkhamsted, UK.