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Today we step into these woods

From Moosehead Lake to Mount Kathadin

The trophy prize The spirit Moose

Written of in myth and legend

Fifteen feet tall, two thousand pounds

With antlers two feet through the velvet

They say it can’t be taken down

Bullets seem to pass right through him

With ghost white skin it disappears

In and out of this dimension

The Specter Moose is living

Somewhere in these woods he’s hidden

We must now claim this monster

and become the greatest hunters known

The day has come we set up camp

at the base of chair back mountain

We walked until the road got damp

An eerie bog lay just beyond those hills

The wood got darker and much colder

a misty fog was creeping cross the mire

These trees appear to be much older

Something in them staring right through me

The Specter Moose appears

The beast of a hundred years

Our minds lost into this vision

We raise up our guns and shoot it down

The night is closing in on us

we can not bring the beast back

its too late and much to heavy

hang the body up and slit its throat

so that it bleeds out entirely

we’ll come back to clean the body

and we'll take the head tomorrow

for now though lets go back to camp

and go to sleep.