I’m flying high in this dark sky.

I watch you close thru my third eye.

I see you close and wonder why,

You shoot at us, you wanna die?

We don’t taste good and mean no harm.

We eat little on your green farm.

The Scarecrow there is just a joke,

You little fool you silly bloke.

You kill each other day and night.

Why do people always fight?

Fields of dead for us to eat,

Well fed people tasty meat.