Beautiful South
Chicken Wings

Well, I always knew

You'd take the crutches and not the skis

Always knew you'd take the stilts and then your knees

When God gave you the sky, I knew you'd take the trees

Son, you've grown those chicken wings, you just can't fly

They anchored our dream yacht to ocean bed

Chained our ideal home to bicycle shed

Clamped our racing car before we sat in driver's seat

Tied our shooting stars and wrapped them round a tree

We could've courted Einstein, could've courted Marx

We could've gone for strolls like other families do in parks

Son, you were born a dud in a family without sparks

Yes, you've got those chicken wings, you just can't fly

The chequered flag that losers despise

Never flew in our port or harbored in our eyes

'Cause we always formed that queue for second prize

This family's got those chicken wings, we just can't fly

Our winning tickets ripped up into shreds

The tale of this family is its heads

We're bouncing on a pogo stick without any springs

It hurts me to admit this but we've got those chicken wings

Yes, you've got those chicken wings and all the luggage

That the failure brings is a swallow flying high that sings

Look he's got those chicken wings, he may as well die


Mirror lyrics:

Look he's got those chicken wings, he may as well die

That the failure brings is a swallow flying high that sings

Yes, you've got those chicken wings and all the luggage

It hurts me to admit this but we've got those chicken wings

We're bouncing on a pogo stick without any springs

The tale of this family is its heads

Our winning tickets ripped up into shreds

This family's got those chicken wings, we just can't fly

'Cause we always formed that queue for second prize

Never flew in our port or harbored in our eyes

The chequered flag that losers despise

Yes, you've got those chicken wings, you just can't fly

Son, you were born a dud in a family without sparks

We could've gone for strolls like other families do in parks

We could've courted Einstein, could've courted Marx

Tied our shooting stars and wrapped them round a tree

Clamped our racing car before we sat in driver's seat

Chained our ideal home to bicycle shed

They anchored our dream yacht to ocean bed

Son, you've grown those chicken wings, you just can't fly

When God gave you the sky, I knew you'd take the trees

Always knew you'd take the stilts and then your knees

You'd take the crutches and not the skis

Well, I always knew


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Chifcken Wins



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