Three Bloodhounds Two Shepherds One Fila Brasileiro - Slim Cessna's Auto Club

My three bloodhounds were snuffing my land and told me what they found

They told about your hoofprints round my stalks, they got me cross

They told about your knuckled imprints on the bank of my farm-games drink

So I sent out my three bloodhounds;

they’s a comin' to hunt you down

Their technique puts Choctaws and Chickasaws to leaf-eating shame

You won’t know they’re round till a wet nose is huffing in your ear

And a mouthful of canine is wrapped round your ankle, like the iron you s’posed

to wear

And when the female blood has pinned your chest she’ll howl to let me know

you’re found

My three bloodhounds returned, and you they did not found

They had three bloody noses, three slouched backs, three tails between their

legs

That got me cross so I sent to Europe for two good shepherd stock

They arrived with attitude, lazed all day, rolled their eyes when I tried to

send them out

They lifted their legs on my fence posts so I had to put them shepherds down

I used their leg-bones for new fence posts, when from your hide I heard you howl

I’ve got one hope left, it’s in the south

Souther than what you know about

It hunted Aztecs and Incas

It hunted Sundance and Butch

But mostly it hunt Germans that skipped town

My Fila Brasilia will snack on my bloodhounds then use the posts to clean out

its mouth

My Fila Brasilia will stalk through my food crops, he’s coming to hunt you down

My Fila Brasilia will walk in the tree tops, and on you fall down

My Fila Brasilia will burrow the earth’s rock, he will root you out

My Fila Brasilia will walk on the water, my beast will not drown

My Fila Brasilia will stand on the mountain, all will hear him howl