Chicken George, the Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing Like the Truth

He turned into a rooster, right there before my eyes His arms became plump chicken wings, imagine my surprise His chest puffed out and swelled with pride his back a feathered thatch His scruffy brogues were cast aside, as he began to scratch. He started pecking with his nose, his neck shot back and forth And then he started crowing, with his head adjusted north. Running round in circles I thought he’d have a fit and that was why I grabbed him, cause I thought he’d never quit That was when he started flapping, I thought he’d never stop To calm him down I used my strength to stuff him in a pot In my haste to quiet him down It must have slipped my mind That I’d put some veg and tatties in, soup helps me to unwind The fire was lit by accident, But how I have no clue And that was when I realised, My George was in a stew I’d hoped through chicken farming, a tighter bond we’d forge and that’s the truth your Honour, why I ate my husband George.