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Well it was mornin' when |
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I left Alabama |
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It must have been around in |
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Mid July I got behind a chicken truck from |
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Georgia And the feathers were a flyin' like snow out of the sky |
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I couldn't get up the speed enough to pass him |
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And a funny smell was a gettin' close to me |
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And somethin' keeps on messing up my windsheild |
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And the farther |
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I go the harder it get's to see |
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Chicken truck chicken truck behind it |
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I'm stuck |
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Chicken truck chicken truck it's just my luck chicken truck on |
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Highway 65 |
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Well the hens are a sqaukin' and the roosters are a crowin' |
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Slowin' me down when |
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I need to get goin' chicken truck on |
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Highway 65 [ guitar ] |
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He slowed down and |
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I tried to drive around him |
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On a big long hill just south of |
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Tennesee He had a box of |
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Colonel Sander's on his dashboard |
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And he was eatin' fried chicken and throwin' his bones on me |
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Chicken truck chicken truck... |
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Chicken truck chicken truck... |
