Chicken Bill

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 Bill

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