It’s the first day of the season he can hardly wait 

He bows to his knees 

and Says a prayer before he leaves.

Heavenly father, 

I carry those memories that came before my turn

Where I've gained lessons learned

I pray to pass down to mine 

The tradition of those tall tines

The sunrises and lights the fog

The morning crisps awakes

As the squirrels squander around The logs

The birds start to sing

They sit very quiet

There they wait

For the horns as tall as a giant

The fall leaves start to crunch

Beside the big oak tree

Everybody shhhhh...

Look here he comes 1,2,3