Relax, It's a long season
T’was the night before turkey season and all though the house,
Was the smell of old camo and she started to grouse.
“You’ve got stuff laid all over; you live like a pig,”
“And you play with these toys just like a big kid!”
There were boxes and slates and mouthcalls galore’
And decoys and shotshells all over the floor.
A box of old chokes that he had discarded,
Cause they didn’t quite shoot the way that he wanted.
Then he took half that junk and stuffed it into his vest’
And it weighed fifty pounds maybe forty at best.
He had practiced those calls in the car and at home,
He had dialed up his buddies and called on the phone!
His clothes were aligned on the back of some chairs’
And his boots set aside at the foot of the stairs.
A shotgun was propped up, beside of the door,
Where three brand new shells were laid on the floor.
As he looked it all over, he smiled with a gleam,
Turkey season was here, you know what I mean!
This year would be different, he’d get one this time,
Then he’d post great pictures and stories on line!
He had scouted and listened, he knew Toms by name,
Everything was all set, he was ahead of the game.
One last look around then he went off to bed,
That gobbler he roosted soon would surely be dead.
“Aren’t you going hunting?” He heard his wife say,
“It’s almost nine-thirty, I thought it started today!”