For the battered chicken I've never met.

__________________________________ The enflamed battered chicken song __________________________________ Why did the chicken cross the road? 'Haps to alleviate its battered load In the mouth of a horny toad God, I love the countryside. Why did the chicken cross the road? To escape the fry that mocked its sleep Making its unborn chickadees go "peep-peep" The sizzle, the crackle. The fear it reaped! God, how I love the countryside. Now that the chicken has crossed the road There will be no applesauce in space There will be no pork chop mattresses There will be only war, death, Internet Suicides, dog leg lefts, and fire on Church St. God, he made the countryside, He made the country sigh. God, he made the chicken song. He took the Brits from Hong Kong God, I hate the chicken song. Now, It's almost time that we put our chickens down. And SHAKE N BAKE, SHAKE N BAKE, SHAKE N BAKE around. God, I love the countryside, God, I love Nick Drake. God, he made the peasant's rake God, he made me beat my chicken. To death again.