Praise to the man who had the idea to bring KFC here, it doesn't seem to be going anywhere.
It is here to stay, as Grenadians eating chicken night and day. Don't talk about when they get pay.
The line stretching right out to the door, they can't get enough they want more. They say the chicken is finger licking, the smell have your mouth dribbling.
The only restaurant that ain't struggling. Don't talk about Christmas, Public Holidays, Big Shows, Sports and Carnival, Chicken flying like hot bread and butter in the air, not even a left over piece anywhere.
KFC just keep on selling, Grenadians just love the spicy as they come from the spice and they say that it eating real nice and they are buying it no matter the price. KFC just keeps on selling.
Grenadian's belly starts to swell as they are doing no work outs and they aint eating too well.
Like Grenadians forget their national food and keeps on buying KFC so good.
Like KFC is now the national dish, at last school children got their wish.
No need to cook, whether it be night or day, just pass by you'll get your chicken and fries.
O how quickly the long ago tradition dies. It is a fast culture in which we live and only the quick can survive. That's why fast food will continue to thrive.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem