Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Chicken Farm, artist - Dead Kennedys. Album song Frankenchrist, in the genre ПанкDate of issue: 20.12.2004
Record label: Manifesto
Song language: English
Chicken Farm |
| Another rainy morning mingling at the market |
| Bartering for food for another day |
| Rifle shots ring out behind the crumbling buildings |
| Executions have begun |
| Sprawled in the square are today’s broken bodies |
| Lots to pick clean if you’re first and quick |
| Rifle through their pockets, peel off their clothes |
| To wear or sell when you wash out the blood |
| Run, my little brother |
| Run to the chicken farm |
| Opportunity is calling |
| You might even find a watch |
| We’re going down to the chicken farm |
| We’re going down to the chicken farm |
| We’re going down to the chicken farm |
| We’re going down to the chicken farm |
| Napalm rains no more but war goes on |
| Little brother died playing at the dump today |
| He found a new toy and held it up proud |
| Then it blew him to bits |
| How many more children |
| Will be killed or die at birth? |
| Deformed by Agent Orange |
| In our food chain forever more? |
| We’re going down to the chicken farm |
| We’re going down to the chicken farm |
| We’re going down to the chicken farm |
| We’re going down to the chicken farm |
| This time we’ll buy our way out |
| I’ve got a plan, you wait and see |
| I smuggled you this map |
| In the gash I sliced in my thigh |
| I hope I’m there to join you, love |
| We’re blown to pieces one by one in this camp |
| We crawl shaking through the fields at gunpoint all day |
| To defuse leftover landmines by hand |
| We shiver on the deck and stiffen for the worst |
| If the pirates come around we might as well be dead |
| We’ll be thrown in the sea or butchered if we’re women |
| All in the name of gold |
| One foot in a land we can barely understand |
| Can’t speak the tongue of Yankee hospitality |
| Our kids at school get beat up |
| To the tune of «Boat people, go home» |
| Sliced with a machete |
| From the breast of our homeland |
| Our new world tries to spit us out |
| But it sure beats the chicken farm |
| We’re going down to the chicken farm |
| We’re going down to the chicken farm |
| We’re going down to the chicken farm |
| We’re going down to the chicken farm |