(To the tune of American Pie by Don McClean)

Long, long time ago…I can still remember how those hot wings used to make me smile.

And I knew if I had my chance…I could make my tastebuds dance…and maybe they’d be happy…for a while.

But February made me shiver…with every bad wing order that I was delivered…Bad news in the Wingazette…I couldn’t take one more step.

I can’t remember if I cried…when I heard that Half-Fast turned the tide…but something touched me deep inside…the day those hot wings died.

Refrain:

So bye, bye Half-Fast hot wing pride…placed my order, got my order…but my order was dry.

And good ole boys were eatin’ hot wings and drinkin’ rye…singin’ this will be the day that hot wings die, this will be the day that hot wings die.

Verse two:

I met a girl who sang the blues…and I asked her for some happy news…but she just smiled and turned away.

I went down to that sacred Half-Fast store…where I ate delicious hot wings years before…but the man there said the hot wings tasted like clay.

And in the streets the Wing General screamed, the poets lied and Hal Turner dreamed…but not a word was spoken…the Half-Fast recipes were broken.

And the three men I admired the most…The Turners, Barrios and Wing General’s ghosts…they caught the last train for the coast…the day, the Half-Fast hot wings died…and they were singin’…

Bye, bye Half-Fast hot wing pride…placed my order, got my order…but my order was dry.

And good ole boys were eatin’ hot wings and drinkin’ rye…singin’ this will be the day that hot wings die, this will be the day that hot wings die.