Here it is (finally)! This song was written by Jeff Deitchman, who mailed me the lyrics just 'cause Bill D asked him to. Mr. Bill is clearly a man of influence.
Unfortunately, Jeff doesn't have any tapes or CDs of this song. Magpie performs it occasionally.
Chicken in the Fridge
Chicken in the fridge, isn't she a darlin'
When you're just about starvin' in the middle of the night
You go trippin' down te stairs and you're gropin' just to find it
And you open up the fridge and you're blinded by the light
Hang on tight, you'll be squintin' for a minute
But if you bear and grin it you'll be sittin' pretty good
When your eyes get adjusted to the glow and the lustre
From the luminous foil all about that bird
Chicken in the fridge, this is what she sounds like
Whatever something sounds like, that's the way she is
Baby want a breast, papa want a thighbone
Little Sis a-pickin' at the chicken in the fridge
When I was seventeen I got me pretty lonely
For a one and only, hell, you know how it is
Well she laughed at my money but she called me "honey"
When I whispered to her softly, "I got chicken in the fridge."
I'm the kind of fella I don't like to go to meetin'
I'd rather be eatin' my chicken so fine
And they don't even give you butter when they serve the Lord's Supper
Just a soggy soda cracker and a half a sip of wine
Come Reckonin' Day, I don't care what they say
I'm gonna stand before my Hostess at the tollin' of the bell
I'll say, "Hang on, Hannah, you can hold your manna;
You ain't got chicken? I'll try 'em down in hell."
Copyright 1997 Jeff Deitchman