I had a favorite chicken, his name was Mr. Ben.
He followed me where’er I went, he was my special friend.
One day I came home early, right at supper time.
Mama fixed fried chicken with taters on the side.
I said I looked all over and couldn’t find my friend,
He must have gotten loose I guess and ran off once again.
My Mama stopped her eating and made me take a break,
And told me that she now believes she’s made a big mistake.
Seems she had reached into the pen, not checking who she got,
But now believes she knows the name of who’s there in the pot.
‘Cause Mama grabbed my Mr. Ben and wrung his scrawny neck,
Then plucked him slap dab naked and cut him all to heck.
She covered him with buttermilk and floured his behind
Then scalded him in boiling grease, before she realized.
Yes, the critter on the table along with other stuff,
Was my favorite chicken and eating him was rough.
I’d take a bite then swallow twice to try and keep him down.
Remembering that this was the one who chased me all around.
I thought about the fun we had and all the things we did,
And how we’ll never romp again like two fun-loving kids.
I’m not sure I will ever now eat chicken anymore,
‘Cause every piece reminds me of my friend who ain’t no more.
Until it finally dawned on me, I loved him while alive,
But now I think, I love him best with taters on the side.