When the moon comes over old Smoky,
I hear a lonesome hound dog wail.
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 know this night will bring.
Talk, gobbler, talk, talk, gobbler, talk
That music echoes through my ears,
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
He's a -rollin' now, boy,
Pickin' up steam like the four -ball mail
That music echoes through my ears
I hear an old gobbler as he talks to me
Saying here he is now, boy, up a tree
I run to the spot, and lo and behold,
Gobbler still a -rearing to go.
That music echoes through my ears.
That music echoes through my ears.