Hey There, Violet! by Áine


The Mudcat Forum	The Mudcat Resource Pages	The Mudcat Midi Page	The Digital Tradition Folk Song Server
Back to The Mudcat Songbook		Back to The Song Challenge Winners!
Anyone is welcome to perform these songs in public without royalties; however, if any of them are recorded or published for profit, the writers/composers expect the usual royalties.

The Challenge: From an Associated Press story of Wednesday, Feb. 16, 2000; describing the mysterious death of Violet, a Rhode Island Red chicken, in the village of Finchingfield, England. Violet, who was insured for $1.5 million, was found dead outside her coop in December without a mark on her. Suspects included the pub landlord, Mike Paviour, who disliked the way Violet bothered his customers and relieved herself everywhere, one of the village councilors, allegedly heard planning to wring Violet's neck after locals complained she was ruining the garden around the war memorial, or perhaps the stranger seen driving erratically in a van? The late chicken's owner, who bought Violet and her sister, Ruby, as pets for her daughter, suspects foul play. Simon Burgess, who arranged the insurance policy on Violet's life, says the policy will pay out only if it can be proven Violet was killed and eaten by councilors or abducted by aliens.

Hey There, Violet! by Áine
(Tune: Big Spender from the Broadway show Sweet Charity)

The moment she scratched on the green,
I could see she was a social misfit,
Rhode Island Redhead,
Strutting free range,
Tail held high,
Oh, how'd I love to get that chicken into a pie!

Down at the pub, all me mates,
Talking big about the deed,
They'd do her right!
Hey there, Violet,
How's about a ride tonight?

Me and me mate, Jack, got thinkin',
'Bout the way we'd split the fee, five big ones,
A great long bender,
No sqawkin' -
Real refined,
Wouldn't ya like to know what went on then in our minds?

Out we went to the van,
Beer and whiskey, we were
Just a little tight,
Hey there, Violet,
How'd ya like to fly tonight?

Up the lane to the cross,
Past the buses with the Yanks in blue jeans,
Real big spenders,
Two fingers in the wind,
Jack turned the wheel too quick
Corr - what happened then!

Past the pub and the landlord,
Around again with us, and
There's our girl in view,
THUMP - we got Ruby,
Violet, the next one's for you!

Well, we got half from the council,
With the other half to come because we'd
Only got one,
Hey Jack-o,
Give me the keys,
Eight shots 'neath me belt, I can drive her with ease.

Up to the coop on our tiptoes,
And that's when the horrid
Call of Nature came,
Stand back Jack-o,
This lad is goin' to flame!

How could we know, dear Inspector,
That the chick was sleeping close to the window,
An instant broiler!
No marks, but,
Pure french-fried,
I'm grassin' on my Jack-o, but I know it's my hide

Up with me pants, in an instant,
Thought we saw the bobbies' lights
Comin' up the lane,
'Struth, Inspector,
It nearly blew me brain!

Out of the glow they came struttin'
With their little ray guns aiming straight at
Me little pinhead,
Feathers ruffled, tails held high,
Thought it was the death of me,
I can't tell a lie!

To this day, dear Inspector,
When I hear the fateful
Crowin' at the dawn,
I'm in the garden,
And peckin' at the lawn!