I’m a little yellow chick,
Who once worked alongside,
The Easter Rabbit,
I helped him decide,
What to put in all the baskets,
I really tried,
But it did not suit me,
So I took a ride.
I hopped a train,
And got off,
At its tenth stop,
Where I ran into a cop,
Holding up a blue umbrella,
‘Cuz it was pouring down rain.
Being a chick,
From a Fairyland,
I could read,
So I found a sign,
Telling me I was in the Big Apple,
How divine!
I took up a residence,
In Central Park,
Where I made friends with a frog,
Who hangs out,
With a loud crowd,
We sometimes like to trip,
People out for a jog,
Or startle a dog,
And make him bark.
One night while out,
On the town,
I got an idea,
Out of the blue,
And on each chicken leg,
I got a tattoo,
One is a lion,
The other is a lamb,
Man I’m loving the city,
And my legs so pretty!
I became very fond,
Of the hustle and bustle,
And the worldly ways,
But I still kept Easter,
In my heart of hearts,
Though I made room too,
For other things to have a part.
I eventually built up my place,
Into a regular chicken mansion,
That was very handsome,
Full of furniture and such,
Of the latest fashions.
Now I realized I had,
Too much time on my hands,
So I took a job,
At a hotdog stand,
Where I heard lots of music,
And got interested,
In joining a band.
So my frog friend,
And the rest of our circle,
Got ourselves up our own band,
We played Christmas music,
And our frontman was a turtle,
Oh how this would make,
Those Easterland Creatures lose it!
The years flew by,
Full of fun and fortune,
’til by and by,
I was feeling my age,
And decided to,
Live life with more caution.
That was so many years ago now,
A quarter – century,
To be exact,
That time stuffing baskets,
Is just a distant memory,
Now I work in a factory,
Machining parts for weaponry.
I still go back for Easter,
If I didn’t,
Dear old Mr. Rabbit,
Would have my keister,
I can now appreciate these weeks,
I spend there,
We have a great parade,
Before delivering all the baskets,
Then come home to a smashing party,
And spend hours eating,
And dancing to delightful beats.
But fun as it is,
I’m satisfied,
That I spread my wings,
I’ll never regret,
Doing my own things,
I’m always happiest when I’m again,
At my own dreamy den.
