Текст песни Open Season

[Music: O'Donnell, Lyrics: Yurkiewicz]

While driving through Northern Pennsylvania on a cold December day

He became enraged by the amount of deer hunters "at play"

He swore to himself that he would absolutely not ignore

this warped activity that he profoundly deplored...

So he snuck into the woods to drop some sons and daddies

He climbed into a tree stand and smoked a fatty

Along came a brush bustin' deer blastin' fanatic

The locals called his death an "accident" and "tragic"

Open season for hunter slaughter

Open season for hunter slaughter

Open season for hunter slaughter

Open season for the hunter slaughter

It wasn't long before he was at it again

Acting on the knowledge that hunting is sick and must end

A fresh blanket of snow was on the ground

The day that hunter gunned thirteen down

He butchered 'em just like factoried hogs

He stacked near a cord of human logs

"Hey you, STOP!" someone yelled

It was the game warden so he ran like hell!!!

His ballistically vented hunter loathing
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Had caused a situation quite foreboding

He ran... He ran...

He blazed through the bush with the speed of a deer

The bulbous game warden was no longer near

He slyly circled finally reaching his car

Toasting his escape with two quarts from a bar

He drove, swillling beer to calm his nerves,

He drove...

Only days passed before he crpt back in the woods

To quell this sick sport as much as one man possibly could

He passed spare time contemplating fantastic dreams...

The end of all human folly so cruel and blatantly obscene

He spied prey in his crosshairs

Some sick fuck hunting bear

Hunter clenched his gun and wryly smiled

This pathetic "sportsman" was gonna die

He yelled "Hey fuck you, dummy!"

The 30-06 round ripped through his tummy

He followed the blood trail but did not run

Caved the prey's head in with the butt of his gun

Hunter still lurks in the woods of

Northeast Pennsylvania!