Honey, don't you be yelling at me
when I'm cleaning my gun
I'll wash the blood off the tailgate
when deer season's done
We got one more weekend to go
And I'd like to kill one more doe
Instrumental
verse 2
So I'll shovel the sidewalk again
'cause you're still in a stew
I bet the bridge tender's widow won't mind
that I can't please you
She's sure got the run of the men
Out here where the pickin's are thin
and there's not much to do
Instrumental
Bridge
I woke up last night in the grip of a fright
scared to breathe for I might make a noise
This life that we craved so little we saved
between the grandparents graves and the grandchildren's toys
verse 3
We grew up hard and our children
don't know what that means
We turned into our parents before
we were out of our teens
Through a series of Chevys and Fords
The occasional spin round the floor
at the Copper Canteen
Instrumental
verse 4
Now the big boxes out on the bypass
are shaving us thin
I guess we'll hold on a couple more years
'til the pension kicks in
Then we'll sell all the stock in the store
Leave only the lock on the door
And wonder what then
Instrumental
Bridge
When I wake up at night in the grip of a fright
and you hold me so tight to your chest
Then your breath on my skin still pulls me back in
'til I'm weightless and then I can rest
Verse 5
So if Monsignor should pull you aside
as you're leaving the church
And I'm out on the ice, dropping lines
for the walleye and perch
Tell him it's not your job to bring me to the fold
And I'd rather stand out in the cold
Verse 6
And honey I know that the woodpile's low
and you can't close the flue
So I'll split up a couple more cords
'fore the winter time's through
Hold on to your rosary beads
Leave me to my mischievous deeds
like we always do
Outro