Singular Dream

I was born in Speckled Eggs Garden. I will die on Broken Egg Farm. I’m hopping between them now, I consider everything to be friendly and nothing dubbed. I am a chick with legs and yellow hair. Oh Lord Almighty, creator of all things beautiful and sick, who prefers another life on top of this, who are you to judge? When Adam and Eve vanished solemnly into the dark, shrouding themselves in the forest, I was timid and nibbling and stayed behind, betrayed only by the plucking of my beak upon the ground you so graciously provided (thanks). I did noth with the best, I am nothing now, do ye noth with me or not? Hear me now before I break O Lord of the Margent, Lord of noth and straw and all things sent far, cheerio, sincerely, I sleep on one leg too!