Bo, Beers, and Battlin’ Birds

(cluck

cluck)

Old Bo lives out

past county line

Got three hundred hens and he is doing fine

His sweet wife Cyndi

feeds 'em every day While their little dog Gizmo

barks the hawks away

Oh they call him Bo the Chicken Man

With a cold light beer in his calloused hand

He's harvesting his maters in the summer heat

And dodging chicken droppings on his dusty feet (yeehaw!)

Now Cyndi's in the kitchen frying up the green tomatoes

Gizmo's chasing hens and digging up potatoes

Bo pops another tab,

says "Life is looking sweet,"

As he listens to the chorus

of a hundred clucking beats Oh

they call him Bo the Chicken Man

With a cold light beer in his calloused hand

He's harvesting his maters in the summer heat

And dodging chicken droppings on his dusty feet (look out,

Gizmo!)

Yeah Bo and Cyndi and Gizmo too Got more yard birds than

a county zoo Crack another cold one,

let the feathers fly

(cluck cluck cluck)