Mush of Carrots

Mush of carrots, mush of carrots—
Predigest 'em when I feed my parrots.
I try not to smother
Their beaks when I'm surrogate mother.

Mush of carrots, touch of borage—
I call it my "rara avis porridge."
Shock the local gentry
When my birds talk about rear entry.

Fly, fly—with serrated wings they
Could go a-cruisin'.
Slice, slice, slice—I've clipped their wings with just
Minor contusions.

Mush of carrots, mush of carrots—
Predigest 'em when I feed my parrots.
Treat 'em like my brothers,
And they call me a "mother******."