Opening day still two weeks away br I break out the camoflauge br Put the paint on my face br Camo' my shotgun and laugh br It's not loaded, but I'm on my way br br A trophy buck will be in the rut br So don't think like a human br Be a trunk or a stone in the rough br Be seen but not heard, yet in tune br I turn into the wind with my crutch br br A coyote comes home br And won't stay for his fear br Don't move and breath slow br Soon my buck will be here br His weight is two eighty or so br br I'm not wrong and he's awesome br Standing six feet away br Both in shock and eyes locked br We find our souls are the same br His head bows and hoof claws br Moving left for my scent br Then center to right br Further left, further right, then left br And comes back to center to fight br Exits Left, as I say - Cigarette?br br Robert Wynnbr br