Life During Buck Season

(with apologies to Talking Heads)

heard of a van, loaded with hunters
parked at the end of the woods
spotted some tree stands down by the river
humans up to no good

the sound of gunfire, down by the treeline
I’m getting used to it now
lived in the marshes, lived in the meadow
I’ve lived all over this ground

this ain’t the summer this ain’t no springtime
I can’t be fooling around
the does are ready I should be rutting
I ain’t got time for that now

you smell their presence it’s in the breezes
the scent of sweat and cheap beer
hide in the tall grass, hide in the brushes
they don’t think we know they’re here

up near the ridge line the guns are loading
sounds like they’re ready to go
I sleep in the daytime, I graze in the nighttime
I can’t wait till they go home

this ain’t the summer this ain’t the springtime
I can’t be fooling around
the does are ready I should be rutting
I ain’t got time for that now

heard about Hubert? heard about Derek?
yeah, they got Fitz and Pierre
you oughta know not to graze in the meadow
they’ll scope you out easy out there

Worked on my antlers, got a nice set now
Thought they’d attract a good mate
But all I’m attracting are some fools with rifles
Who want my ass on their plate

I can’t stay here now, they’re getting closer
Something just buzzed past by my head
My chest is aching, burns like a hornet
I’m much too young to be dead

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