Do I have to tell them the sky is falling? Yes. Do they give a damn?
No. They just keep hustling around and eating grass. Do the fruit trees
listen to me and hold back the bloom? No. Did I heed what my mother
said? Well no, but now I'm pretty much a chicken, and these hens are
heedless, ungovernable, and doomed. Am I the only real chicken here or
what?
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