歌词
(Verse 1)
Down in Georgia, in the dusty heat,
A chicken pecked along, a guitar at his feet,
Strummin’ strings with his beak so neat,
When the devil appeared, feelin' up for deceit.
"Hey there, bird, you pluck pretty fine,
But can you beat me in a pickin' line?
This here guitar, made of gold so divine,
Win it off me, if your skills outshine."
(Chorus)
Oh, the cluckin' strum, feathers in the breeze,
A chicken and the devil, playin' to seize,
A golden guitar, or a soul to freeze,
Pluckin’ for freedom, oh won’t you please?
(Verse 2)
The chicken nodded, his eyes aflame,
"Let's pluck it out, it's a fair game."
The devil grinned, as he staked his claim,
"On this golden fret, I’ll etch my name."
They tuned their strings, the crowd drew near,
A duel of fates, the stakes were clear,
With a cluck and a strum, the chicken showed no fear,
Notes floated up, like a chandelier.
(Chorus)
Oh, the cluckin' strum, feathers in the breeze,
A chicken and the devil, playin' to seize,
A golden guitar, or a soul to freeze,
Pluckin’ for freedom, oh won’t you please?
(Bridge)
The devil’s fingers moved like fire,
Blazin' trails of musical desire,
But the chicken’s tune soared higher and higher,
Strumming on the heartstrings of the heavenly choir.
(Verse 3)
As the last chord rang, silence fell,
Who won the bet, no soul could tell,
Then cheers broke out, a victorious yell,
The chicken grinned, “Guess I played well.”
(Chorus)
Oh, the cluckin' strum, feathers in the breeze,
A chicken and the devil, playin' to seize,
A golden guitar, or a soul to freeze,
Pluckin’ for freedom, oh won’t you please?
(Outro)
Now every barn dance, they tell the tale,
Of a chicken’s bet where he did not fail,
With his golden guitar, on a victory trail,
Pluckin’ away, without a pale.
