Well I was born in a small border town And I left home at a young age and headed on down And I started walking Following a white line I was on the side of a wild rush end freeway With one pair of clothes and nothing else to my name When a lorry would pass I would pick myself up with A new coat of grit and a fresh layer of dust I was dirty, fully covered And just when the dirt started stinging my eyes And I couldn't decide the ground from the sky A man pulled over and offered a ride So I took it, I ran right over And I got in his truck and sat perfectly still And he said ‘I just gotta stop off at the mill' I said ‘You can take me wherever you will' And I asked him ‘What do they call you?' And he answered ‘Chicken Bill, they call me Chicken Bill' Well, on account of the dirt he thought I was a man And he reached out his mint and he shook my filthy hand He said ‘Boy, I got me a farm ‘round the bend And I could sure use the help if you got time to land Catching chickens, chopping their head off, locking them up' All right, run around So I worked for old Bill and his beautiful wife Who would cook up a chicken for us every night And just when I thought everything was alright He sat me down, he said ‘I'm skipping town Going …around' And I said ‘How could you live such a woman behind?' Then the look on his face helped me open my eyes And for the first time I saw Chicken Bill's other side He sat down beside me, all nervous and shy And he told me the real story of Chicken BillTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
