Grandad was a trapper
He trapped animals and kept the skin
And carried the meat home in his cap
By the way, they were wild and not in a pen
He was good at it and made his own traps
There was fifteen kids
Back then, they even used the tree sap
They were sold at the only store, and before hid
With his money he bought shoes
For all of the kids in winter to wear
For in summer they all went barefoot, so each year they were new
Without a scratch or a tear
Until his mother caught him
He was feeding a black panther in his house
I wish I had that on film
But he would leave food out and be as quiet as a mouse
Then when he was caught the cat was out
He laughed when he told it
They lived in the country on a route
But all the times he fed it never did anyone get bit
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