When the moon comes over old
Smoky, I hear a lonesome hound or whale.
I know it's time to grab my hat
and coat for old
Gobbler's hit the trail.
It's up through the hollow and down through the draw,
the pine trees begin to sing.
They ring out the music of an old fox chase
they know this night will bring.
Talk, gobbler, talk!
Talk, gobbler, talk!
That music echoes through my ears.
Talk, gobbler, talk!
I yell, go, gobbler, go, boy,
as I hit the ground on the run.
That old foxhound is a -pickin' him up,
I know a race has just begun.
I hear old
Gobbler as he crosses the creek
Down through the meadow
and over the peak
He's a -rollin' now, boy, hot on the trail
Pickin' up steam like a
barbed wire whale
Talk,
Gobbler, talk
Talk,
Gobbler, talk
That music echoes through my ears
Talk,
Gobbler, talk
I hear old
Gobbler as he talks to me, saying,
here he is now, boy, up a tree, I've run to
the spot, and lo and behold,
there sits old
Gobbler still a -rearin' to go.
Talk,
Gobbler, talk.
Talk,
Gobbler, talk.
That music echoes through my ears.
Talk,
Gobbler, talk.
Talk,
Gobbler, talk.
Talk,
Gobbler, talk.
That music echoes through my ears.
Talk,
Gobbler, talk.