Hawthorne, a rouge, born in a tree.
Raised among blackbirds, natural and free.
Lumbering through the thickets and thorns,
Hairy and burly, never been shorn.
Swimming in rivers for hours on end,
Looking for someone he can call friend.
He can chop down a fir with his bare hand,
While stacking the wood, he’s quite a man!
Catch you a fish, gut it and clean it,
I said he’s unique, and darn it, I mean it!
So don’t think twice about taking him in,
You’ll never be sorry, and well, that’s the end.
