“Dying”

No doctor’s bill is gonna kill
me, but a Whipporwhil’s will.
For I have seen my chart
And tho’ I must depart
From this life some day, its’ hell,
That a tiny peck
My whole life can wreck.
Yes, now I’m
Dying of Bird Flu!
Dying of Bird Flu!
I’m nearly gone
And all treatment’s been withdrawn
Because I’m dying, dying, dying, dying –
Now I can hardly speak
’Cause the touch of a beak
Has left me dying.


I’ve thought that I would say “Goodbye”
With some grace, that’s a lie.
Without a shred of hope
It’s just so hard to cope,
Oh, Doctor, what can I do?
For I’m out of time!
I’m so scared that I’m
Dying of Bird Flu!
Dying of Bird Flu!
Now when I’m gone
My hatred will live on
For all things flying, flying, flying, flying!
I’m dying, bye-byeing
World, to you.