Lyrics:

I'm not a pheasant plucker,
I'm a pheasant plucker's son.
And I'm sittin' pluckin' pheasants
til the pheasant plucker comes.

Well my daddy was a poor man
he worked hard to earn his pay.
I went out a'shootin' pheasants
which he sat and plucked all day.
I don't wanna end up like him,
plucking pheasants til I'm dead.
Gotta find another way
to earn me bread.

Birds are flying overhead most of the day
Gotta find a target just to make me way

Tried to be an entertainer, be a joker or a clown.
But the folks who came to see me,
they just had to put me down.
Tried to be an undertaker
but I don't like wearin' black.
There must be another way
to earn me whack.

Birds are flyin' overhead most of the day.
Gotta find a target just to make me way.

again