My old hen, she’s hen she’s ten years old,
She lives outside in the rain and cold.
Even when it’s cold and grey,
She lays eggs most every day.
Clucking in the Autumn,
Clucking in the Spring.
Can you hear my old hen sing?
Clucking in the henhouse, clucking in the straw,
Five eggs, ten eggs, sometimes more.
My old hen, she saw a fox,
So she hid in a cardboard box.
The farmer came, the fox ran away,
But still she laid no eggs that day.
I’ve got a hen lives down in the shed,
She won’t eat corn but she’ll eat brown bread.
She jumps up and down and loves to boast
That she lays scrambled eggs on toast.
I’ve got a hen who’s fond of greens,
She eats cabbages, lettuce and beans.
Every morning, there she squats,
Sitting on her eggs with bright green spots.
I’ve got hens, eight, nine, ten,
They eat strawberry jam and then
Every night they go to bed
And the colour of their eggs has changed to red.
I’ve got a hen called ‘Vindaloo’,
I’ll tell you what my hen can do.
Now every hen lays eggs, of course,
But she lays hers in curry sauce.
Words and music © Simon Mayor & Hilary James
Illustrations by Hilary James