I remember my first time
The sun, it did not shine
Still I felt the beauty of
That rugged countryside
Later on that night
The rules not yet defined
My wife's dad took me aside
And gave me this advice (and he said)
"Never tell a man where you hunt!
His brother or his son
That's confidential information
Don't you tell no one!
You may think it's no big deal
But I assure you this is real
You tell people, next thing it's too
Crowded in the field!"
Well I took his advice
I thought that might be wise
Now when people ask me where I hunt
I look them in the eyes
I say "It's way out in the sticks
Two hundred miles of grids
Somewhere north or west or is it
South of Swift Current?"
"Never tell a man where you hunt!
His brother or his son
That's confidential information
Don't you tell no one!
You may think it's no big deal
But I assure you this is real
You tell people, next thing it's too
Crowded in the field!
Never tell a man where you hunt!
I Don't care how big his gun
That's privileged information boy
So don't you tell no one!"
Never tell a man where you hunt
Never tell a man where you hunt