A long drive, down a weed covered road
Near a stagnant, cypress swamp
The trail ends at a locked, rusty gate
The broken down, Mr. Charles camp
They used to come from every town
To hunt and live as men again
Then drink and laugh the night away
The blinds have rotted and the lodge filled with dust
And no one comes from town anymore
Mr. Charles dreams of days gone by
As he locks the gate for the last time
They used to come from every town
To hunt and live as men again
Then drink and laugh the night away
