The ground hog is a funny bloke
watch him run when shotguns smoke
O'er the fields and faraway
Running like hell from the hunters shot
exerting every ounce of strength he's got
Oh poor old Groundhog

When he stops God only knows
eats his breakfast then onward goes
Finds a field that's soft with loam
digging like a mole to make a home
Worrying like hell about the garden gnome
Oh poor old Groundhog

Wait till the owner find his hole
This time wont be guns he fears
Off o'er the hills to save his soul All around the lawn the smoke appears
Time to gather up and run M'dears
Oh poor old Groundhog