THAT CHICKEN SONG

(Tune: "Requiem")

Nyrond, oh Nyrond, you stand before the sink,
Fearful and nervous, and dying for a drink.
There lies the chicken you bought yesterday.
Now you must cook it, you can't turn away.

Nyrond, oh Nyrond, the first thing you must do
(Is) take off the plastic, remove the giblets too.
Rinse it with water and then pat it dry.
Turn on the oven, and turn it up high.

Nyrond, oh Nyrond, get out your roasting tin.
Make sure the bird's not too big to sit therein.
Lay it down easy and butter the breast.
Salt if you want to, a little is best.

Nyrond, oh Nyrond, the moment is at hand.
Open the oven, be careful where you stand.
Put in the bird, noting well the time of day.
Wait fifteen minutes, then turn it down halfway.

Nyrond, oh Nyrond, now don't just stand around,
Though you must wait twenty minutes to the pound.
Veg and potatoes leave no time to waste,
And every half hour the bird you must baste.

Nyrond, oh Nyrond, the testing time is here.
Poke it and see if the juices run clear.
Then you can say, as you skilfully carve,
"Now I've cooked chicken, I know I won't starve."