Written by Wesley Sparlin

Coonhounds at night, They'll tree one alright. With a nose to the ground, and four paws running. Time is on your side... Let them work that smell, of that pesky ringtail. When it's time to tell you when, the boys let out a howl, and you with a grin, As the sounds flood the night. You got that coon dead In your sights, shining to the top of the tallest of trees, this is done with the greatest of ease, thanks to an ol' nite lite. Bang goes the Remington nylon that coon falls long gone, from the tree that kept him safe. The dogs are there to get them a taste of that pesky coon that led chase. With a woof and a growl, the boys let outta howl, move on to the next one a hunters lifestyle passed on from father to son, so with out a doubt, let them boys out... And they'll tree one alright, on any given night.

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