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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 couldnât 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 âI just gotta stop off at the millâ
I said âYou can take me wherever you willâ
And I asked him âWhat do they call you?â
And he answered âChicken Bill, they call me Chicken Billâ
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 âBoy, I got me a farm âround the bend
And I could sure use the help if you got time to land,
Catching chickens, chopping their head off, locking them upâ
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 âIâm skipping town,
Going â¦aroundâ
And I said âHow could you live such a woman behind?â
Then the look on his face helped me open my eyes
And for the first time I saw Chicken Billâs other side
He sat down beside me, all nervous and shy
And he told me the real story of Chicken Bill