In Saint Marsal

In Saint Marsal
near the Bastide,
lived a poor parish priest.
He used to eat very little: a boiled potato, and sometimes a bit of bread.

But one day, a hen passed by near the hermitage.
He broke its neck and roasted it.
During the night, he ate it all.
“Let the thunder strike me down”, it’s better than a potato
“Let the thunder strike me down”, it’s better than bread
“Let the thunder strike me down”, it’s better than a potato
For diner

(we repeat quickly a second time)

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