September Stick Dance

Head bobbing up, down, and all around

How are these things built off the ground

Sticks begin dancing through the air

Destroying this creatures natural insect snare

Then there is a blotch on your leg, It's moving

Millions of seed ticks, Boy they are really groovin'

You swung your stick way too late

Maybe you should have walked straight

Arms twitch as your spitting and coughing

Hope the trap you ate has natural protein

The birds, they chuckle deep down inside

As you scratch and paw at your hide

When you mix stupidity

With late summer humidity

It can only be for one reason

We're out scouting for deer season

So around the woods we prance

Performing the ritual - September Stick Dance

September 5, 1995