The Deer Hunter

It's the time of the year
To go out and hunt deer
And the hunters like locuses will swarm
in search of a deer
If the weather be cold or be warm

Good sportsman you know
Where ever they go
Are thoughtful and careful and fair
They'll go by the book
At each target will look
And handle thier rifle with care

There will one in each crowd
Who'll be boastful and loud
Who says rules are made to be broken
Just watch says he
And leave it to me
I'll bring you a deer for a token

He'll stop by the road
And his gun he will load
Right there on the public highway
He'll look all around
And he'll prance up and down
In hopes that a deer he might slay

If a bush it should move
Then he'll look down the groove
He'll pull the trigger and bam!
Then he'll go look to see
What his target may be

Through the forest he'll scoot
His gun will shoot
He will fire at any old thing
It may be a thrush
That lives in the brush
Or it may be a bird on the wing

He did finally connect
With a big buck direct
Now I'll go back and show them, says he
And it wasn't just luck
That I downed this big buck
But that ribbing was never to be

For he never knew
As his wild bullets flew
That his comrades in safety had fled
On that cold grey day
They had all run away
From his blistering hail of hot lead