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