Recorded by: Buddy Wasisname and the Other Fellers
Written by: Zeke Hoskin
This cramped city life is not right for a man
We’re born to live free and to kill what we can
So it’s off to the country where the air’s fresh and clear
With a carton of cigarettes and twelve dozen beer.
So blow the horn loudly and rev up the truck
We’re off to the country to murder the duck.
We climb in the truck about six forty-five
And proceed to get tanked for the long weary drive
When we get to the cabin we’re all brightly lit
Can’t remember who drove and can’t tell what we hit.
It’s up with the dawn, though coffee’s no good
And down to the lake through the dew-spangled wood
When we get to the blind we’re as happy as boys
Til we find out that Buddy forgot the decoys.
We crouch without standing from nine until three
Except every few minutes we stand up and pee
At last! There’s a duck and we fill it with lead
Can’t figure who shot it but the sucker’s sure dead.
Then it’s back to the cabin for whiskey and steak
Where we talk about women till nearly daybreak
No one believes what the other guys say
but we have to talk dirty to prove we’re not gay.
The next day the ducks are gone elsewhere in flocks
So we have to shoot beer cans and tree stumps and rocks
Dick lost his gun when he fell in the lake
And Tom shot a full can of beer by mistake.
Then it’s back to the city refreshed by our sport
Drinkin’ gas by the gallon and beer by the quart
We have to draw straws to see you has the luck
To pick two pounds of lead out of three pounds of duck!