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letra de the last chicken in dublin - marc gunn

there’s many a tale
in these lands fit for tellin’
and some of them sad
like to bring the tears welling
but if you don’t find
these few stanzas too troublin’
i’ll sing the song of
the last chicken in dublin

there once was a c-ck
who lived down in the barnyard
it won’t be a shock
that his life wasn’t too hard
cooped up with the hens
or in morning time crowing
he lived like a king
and had no thought of going

but life is quite cruel
when you’re only a chicken
you soon learn the rule:
folks find you finger-l!ckin’
the farmer came out
with a cleaver and hatchet;
the c-ck saw a train
and he flew off to catch it
the train took him far
to the east of the country
the c-ck thought ’twas fine:
“i shall dwell with the gentry!”
he got off the train
at the connolly station
‘twas then he became
the last chicken in dublin

now, dublin’s a town
full of hardship and famine;
there’s plenty of beer
but best not ask for gammon
so when the poor c-ck
flapped his wings and went looking
to find him some corn
he was ripe for the cooking

he met with a maid
who was pushing a trolley;
she gave him a look;
thus he first knew his folly
he flew with a squawk
when she lunged for his gullet;
she had to go back
to her job: selling mullet
he sat on the stoop
and he ruffled his feathers
and almost got caught
by a fellow in leathers
the pounce of a cat
missed but made his heart quicken;
things just don’t look good
for that hapless last chicken

“alas that i came!”
crowed the c-ck in high dudgeon
“i never!” and then
he was struck with a bludgeon
they plucked him all bare
and hung him from the ceiling
though it wasn’t fair
and was cold and unfeeling

now i must not fail
out of motives the purest
to tell the true tale:
he was fed to a tourist
and as of this date
in a pot he is bubblin’
let’s drink to his fate:
the last chicken in dublin!

- marc gunn

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