|
The flash pan hunter sways with the wind |
|
His rifle is the sound of the morning |
|
Each sulfurous bullet way have it's own wit |
|
Each cartridge comes with a warning |
|
Beware of elaborate telescopic meats |
|
They will find their way back to the forest |
|
CHORUSFor |
|
Wilhelm can't wait |
|
To be Peg |
|
Leg's crown |
|
As the briar is strangling |
|
The rose back down |
|
His back shall be my slender new branch |
|
It will sway and bend in the breeze |
|
As the devil does his polka |
|
Wit ha hatchet in his hand |
|
As a sniper in the branches of the trees |
|
As the vulture flutters down |
|
As the snake sheds his dove |
|
Wilhelm's cutting off his fingers |
|
So they'll fit into his glove |
|
CHORUS |
