(Lyrics by Phil Cole)  

THEY'RE SCRATCHING AND PICKING AT GOD KNOWS WHAT

AS THEY STRUT AND THEY POSTURE AT THE FEED TROUGH

THEY LOVED BEING FREE RANGE, THEY'D SPREAD THEIR WINGS

NOW THEY PEEK THROUGH THE WIRE AT THEIR UNDERLINGS

TROUBLE IN THE HEN HOUSE

TROUBLE IN THE HEN HOUSE

FUNKY CHICKENS IN A MAD MAD HOUSE

THERE'S TROUBLE IN THE HEN HOUSE

HE CROWS IN THE MORNING AND WAKES HER UP

SHE RUFFLES HIS FEATHERS WITH HER FOUL UPS

HE SCRAMBLES EACH EGG THAT SHE PROUDLY LAYS

SHE'S WALKING ON EGG SHELLS, FLY, FLY, AWAY

TROUBLE IN THE HEN HOUSE

TROUBLE IN THE HEN HOUSE

FUNKY CHICKENS IN A MAD MAD HOUSE

THERE'S TROUBLE IN THE HEN HOUSE

THEY'RE TROUBLESOME CHICKENS, THEIR MINDS IN DECAY

WHO'D HAVE THOUGHT THEIR MEMORIES

WOULD GET SCRAMBLED THIS A WAY

TROUBLE IN THE HEN HOUSE

TROUBLE IN THE HEN HOUSE

FUNKY CHICKENS IN A MAD MAD HOUSE

THERE'S TROUBLE IN THE HEN HOUSE

TROUBLE IN THE HEN HOUSE

TROUBLE IN THE HEN HOUSE

FUNKY CHICKENS IN A MAD MAD HOUSE

THERE'S TROUBLE IN THE HEN HOUSE

c2013