He’s joined the Colonel in the sky;
Joined him there, their birds to fry.
Mr. Copeland, sixty-four –
Al he was to friends, no more.
Founding Popeye’s Famous Fried
Chicken he’s now upped and died.
His salivary gland got sick,
Grew a tumor, he died quick.
Copeland had a donut store
When KFC came to his door;
Thinking it a better gig,
In his pocket deep he’d dig.
Founding Chicken on the Run,
His answer to the Colonel’s fun;
But six months passed, he’s goin’ broke,
Thinks some spice will sales stoke.
Closes down to rearrange
The recipe of flavor change;
The French Connection lends the name -
Popeye Doyle’s how Popeye came.
Opens up and three weeks pass,
And Mr. Copeland’s kickin’ ass;
Ten years on, eight hundred stores
Dot the landscape, shore-to-shore.
Feelin’ good about his place,
He’s Number 3 as chickens race;
Makes a grab for Number 2,
Buys up Church’s Chicken too.
But it is leveraged to the hilt,
And Copeland’s fortunes start to wilt.
Belly-up did Popeye’s send,
Fifteen years from start to end,
Gated yards and castle moats;
He lived large but leaves the cast
Frying chicken unsurpassed.