He ran outta that bedroom ′bout as gung-ho
As he could be in his Mossy Oak
Took a first hunt picture on my phone
'Fore he fell asleep on the way
I held the gun, he held the light
A cup of coffee and a can of sprite
The stand was only ten-feet high
But on top of the world that day
I already knew we wouldn′t see a thing
Been three more times, and it's always the same, 'cause
He moves too much, and he talks too loud
But I don′t mind, ′cause I'm finding out
That even if it′s just time we're killing
It′s never felt more like living
They'll make you cuss and wear your patience thin
But next thing you know, they′re all grown up, and then
You're huntin' by yourself again
Well, I′ve heard ′em say these days don't last
I know the years are gonna fly fast
Right out the door and never come back
As bad as you want ′em to
And pretty soon, he'll sit in his own tree
Be a bat outta hell with a set of keys
Chasing girls is gonna be
All he′ll wanna do
He'll have a lot less time for his old man
So I′m gonna soak it up while I still can
When he moves too much, and he talks too loud
But I don't mind, 'cause I′m finding out
That even if it′s just time we're killing
It′s never felt more like living
They'll make you cuss and wear your patience thin
But next thing you know, they′re all grown up, and then
You're huntin′ by yourself again
Runs outta that bedroom 'bout as gung-ho
As he can be in his Mossy Oak
Hop in the truck, and off we go
I can't help but smile, ′cause he don′t know
He moves too much, and he talks too loud
But I don't mind, ′cause I'm finding out
That even if it′s just time we're killing
It′s never felt more like living
They'll make you cuss and wear your patience thin
But next thing you know, they're all grown up, and then
You′re huntin′ by yourself again
Writer(s): Thomas Marc Archer, Alex Palmer, Luke Albert Combs, Michael Tyler, Ray Fulcher
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