A Carolina Christmas…in the Southern uplands

Winter is here, and leather boots are on the go
Wingshooters in orange walking through evergreen groves
Red Partridgeberries danglin’ everywhere
Timberdoodles flushin’ in pairs
It must be that time of year that brings warm cheer

Carolina Ruffs sittin’ high upon a lone tree
Hunters searchin’ for island pheasants aimlessly
Core Bank imported birds frustrate
As they fly across quickly on their way
Missed shots causing grown men to weep

Setter bells are ringin’ up ahead
Rigid statues pointing with their nose from still heads
Dog starts to creep, birds decide to vamoose
Shotguns shooting and feathers goin’ poof
Grouse tails peakin’ out. So boujee       
It’s a Carolina Christmas
Southern uplands as sweet as can be

Head to the Blue Ridge Mountains for a journey
A thunder of grouse may be found on either side of a gully
Drinkin’ seasonal Wassail then going after Dixieland quail
Leafers walking dirt roads beneath bare trees

Bird dogs workin’ favorite December haunts
Escaping holiday parties to chase the grouse I want
In my hands, lies a twenty with two barrels

With a grey phase bird in hand I’ll be singing my own carols
It’s a Carolina Christmas
Southern uplands as sweet as can be