Through the night's cool air drifted
The words of Au Claire de la Lune
Some how rather fitting by light
Of this full round Hunter's Moon
Empty weapons carried broken
Til we reached the killing field
What we do is not for pleasure
But fill a family's basic need
So I chant my hunter's prayer
As I load up with medium shot
May each cartridge count
For I don't have a lot
And may I kill cleanly
Let no dying screams
Tonight come and visit
To wander through my dreams
May the Keeper not catch us
For he shoots before he talks
May we all return safely
From this hunter's walk
Let this night be quick
And sufficient at least
To give tomorrow's fare
The semblance of a feast
This Hunter's Moon is kind
Setting stubble fields alight
No cover for our quarry
On this hunting night
The weapon is cocked
But I get no thrill
I think I die a little
With every thing I kill
Through the night's cool air drifted
The words of Au claire de la Lune
Some how rather fitting by light
Of this full round Hunter's Moon