Funky Chicken
I was at the grocery store butting in line,
Hiding sixteen chicken legs seasoned with thyme.
When low and behold an old lady says, “that’s a crime,”
I said, “You must be crazy, cause you ain’t got no rhyme”.
The old lady’s voice set the tone,
We went round and round cursing out loud.
I said shut yo’ mouth you’re drawing a crowd.
When the manager stepped in and said what’s your bone?

When up walks this big mother fucker with a smile on his face,
The look in his eyes said it with tension.
He mouthed the words “You better say grace”
Cause you ain’t gonna have a pension.
I stole the funky chicken and left the store in a hurry fo’ shore,
Cause all I wanted was some funky chicken, and no more...
Einar THor Einarsson
1981 - ...

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The Paranoid Investigator.
Funky Chicken