Yard bird, yard bird a-peckin' on the ground
Yard bird, yard bird head goes up and down
Make some real good dumplins' when Sunday rolls around
Yard bird, Yard bird a-peckin' on the ground

I remember Mamaw Polly
With her apron full of corn
She'd drop some down around her feet
and the chickens they would swarm
She'd snatch one up and ring its neck
and the feathers they would fly
then we'd fight over the pulley bone
once she had him fried

Repeat Chorus:

Verse 2:
Old Chicken eatin' John
After church he'd come to dinner
He'd eat up all the white meat
After preachin' to the sinners
He'd leave a great big pile of bones
How he could scarfe it down
Thank God we had yard birds
A-peckin' on the ground

Repeat Chorus: