[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 d**h 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 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 pa**ed before he crpt back in the woods To quell this sick sport as much as one man possibly could He pa**ed spare time contemplating fantastic dreams... The end of all human folly so cruel and blatantly obscene He spied prey in his crosshairs Some sick f** hunting bear Hunter clenched his gun and wryly smiled This pathetic "sportsman" was gonna die He yelled "Hey f** 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 bu*t of his gun Hunter still lurks in the woods of Northeast Pennsylvania!