The Battery Hen
I lays them in a funnel,
Strategically placed
So that I don’t kick ‘em
And let them go to waste.
They rolls off down the tubing
And up the gangway quick,
Sometimes I gets to thinkin’,
That could have been a chick!’
I might have been a farmyard
Scratchin’ in the sun,
There might have been a crowd of
After me to run.
There might have been a cockerel
To pay us his respects,
Instead of sittin’ here,
Till someone comes and wrings our
I see the Time and Motion clock
Is sayin’ nearly noon.
I ‘spect me squirt of water
Will come flyin’ at me soon,
And then me spray of pellets
Will nearly break my leg,
And I’ll bite the wire nettin’
And lay one more bloody egg.
Oh, I am a battery hen,
On me back there’s not a germ,
I never scratched a farmyard,
And I never pecked a worm.
I never had the sunshine
To warm me feathers through.
Eggs I lay. Every day.
For the likes of you.
When you has them scram-
Piled up on your plate,
It’s me what you should thank
for that.
I never lays them late,
I always lays them reg’lar,
I always lays them right,
I never lays them brown,
I always lays them white.
But it’s no life for a battery
In me box I’m sat,
A funnel stuck out from the side,
Me pellets comes down that.
I gets a squirt of water,
Every half a day,
Watchin’ with me beady eye,
Me eggs roll away.
By Pam Ayres