Two Poles and a Shotgun

Let me tell you a tale of huntin and fishin Great times with a couple real friends And Luke, I can't make this long story short For I must start where it all begins Ice fishin Shellenbarger or floating the South Branch Mushroom pickin and road huntin fun The true life story of three good ole northern boys The tale of two Poles and a Shotgun Now Mike, he is really a riot And has been since day one He wheeled up to me in Mrs. Austins chair I didn't know to shake hands or run One crazy night back in high school A great night of homecoming week fun In the trees outside Rikers garage Mike earned the nickname Shotgun Luke and I, we go way back Almost as long as me and Mike High school football, 2 tracks and 6 packs B.C. parties and riding dirt bikes Ice spuds don't make good minnow bucket weights To most of you is probably no shock Sure Luke an I tried, but we have an excuse We're just a couple redneck Poelocks Walleye fishin Lake Margreethe In tree stands perched over deer runs It's the on going story of three northern boys The tale of two Poles and a Shotgun At broken blade Mike shot his first buck To this day it is still his best Then one year at fishin camp He threw a knife and stabbed his own chest I told my mom I'd stay at Lukes house He told his he would be at mine We had no plan where we'd end up Wrestling mats worked out just fine I've always been the one who drives For if I don't I get car sick One time for them hearing me hurl And they knew it wasn't a trick Walleye fishin Lake Margreethe In tree stands perched over deer runs The on going story of three northern boys The tale of two Poles and a Shotgun A major fly hatch and a june bug swarm Lukes Brat covered with insect splatter There were to many flies so we caught no fish But believe me, it really didn't matter Sharing a bottle with Mike, celebrating a kill Even though it was not a big buck I really don't remember much of that day Except that deer really fit in the cab of small trucks Today we are much older and wiser Some say wiser might be the wrong label Just last weekend, Saint Pattys day at Mikes No one drank us bitches under the table So as the years go by and we leave our mark Creating stories not to be undone Generations to come can share the tale The tale of two poles and a Shotgun So as the years go by and we leave our mark Creating stories not to be undone Generations to come can share the tale The tale of two poles and a Shotgun