Wild Turkey Blues
Bird of Wisdom
There is a bird of a colorful nature,
at home in the back lot's wood,
This rascal, almost was chosen,
a country's symbol, if a nation could.
A wild bird so crafty and hard to find,
out in the open wide countryside,
An intelligent gent, much hunter's time,
to be spent, and with him, to abide.
Refrain of the Blues song(to be repeated after each stanza)
Old turkey blues, sung in the night,
out under the quarter moon's light,
Give your wild call, spread your wings right,
beneath the stars, up afar, all so bright.
A Gobbler is the smartest wild thing,
and to find him just has to be in luck,
The only way you can spot a big one,
is like being as lightning struck.
Gobbler, you to laugh at me, out there,
for he knows just well, how to hide,
I can't give in to his deceitful side,
for it's a matter of us hunters' pride.
When I search most of the day long,
without not a single feather to find,
I begin to understand you just then,
it's not about your being unkind.
You are fighting a battle for breath of life,
our God on high, has given to us all,
Out in those open and wooded lanes,
and in the fine season, of the golden Fall.
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