Chicken Tender

I will not eat the soup you made
from lentils ’cause I am afraid,
I feel that I will surely sicken
if I don’t get my deep fried chicken.

I don’t want brisket in it’s juice,
nor duck nor pheasant nor a goose.
I don’t care if you tell me that
it’s just like chicken cooked in fat.
I don’t want lettuce garden fresh,
it’s what they eat in Bangladesh,
and no cucumber with it mixed,
I’d rather eat a plate of sticks.
And don’t you think I will surrender
I just want my chicken tender.

I will not eat that garden stuff,
you cannot cook it long enough.
No carrots, they just came from dirt,
and cabbage makes my stomach hurt.
Asparagus and hard boiled egg
and apples please don’t make me beg.
And don’t you think I will surrender
I just want my chicken tender.

No matzo soup, no pot of chili,
Spanish olives sure are silly.
No rice or pasta on my dish,
no salmon and no other fish,
potatoes or some fancy cheese,
I don’t want them if you please.
And don’t you think I will surrender
I just want my chicken tender.

 

 

 

 

 

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