My Chicken's On the Internet
by Kenn Nesbitt
My chicken's on the Internet.
She surfs the web all day.
I've tried to stop her browsing
but, so far, there's just no way.
She jumps up on the mouse and then
she flaps around like mad
to click on every hyperlink
and every pop-up ad.
She plays all sorts of chicken games.
She messages her folks.
She watches chicken videos
and forwards chicken jokes.
She writes a blog for chickens
and she uploads chicken pics.
She visits chicken chat rooms
where she clucks about her chicks.
I wouldn't mind so much
except my keyboard's now a wreck.
She hasn't learned to type yet;
she can only hunt and peck.
by Kenn Nesbitt
My chicken's on the Internet.
She surfs the web all day.
I've tried to stop her browsing
but, so far, there's just no way.
She jumps up on the mouse and then
she flaps around like mad
to click on every hyperlink
and every pop-up ad.
She plays all sorts of chicken games.
She messages her folks.
She watches chicken videos
and forwards chicken jokes.
She writes a blog for chickens
and she uploads chicken pics.
She visits chicken chat rooms
where she clucks about her chicks.
I wouldn't mind so much
except my keyboard's now a wreck.
She hasn't learned to type yet;
she can only hunt and peck.
