The Buzzard, some say is bad to the very bone
This I do not deny, nor by my silence do I condone
But my friends, as you very well might have guessed
I sure do have some thoughts, to get off my chest

This buzzard likes who he is, of this I am glad
For if you don't like yourself, life can be very sad
Am I a bad moon rising, me and my old black hat
Well its better than taking that long dirt nap

Old Buzz bad to the bone, this I maybe able to sell
Those friends who know me, I ask not to ever tell
Bad or good I'm just me, The Canadian Buzzard
Although there is one friend, she just calls me turd

The buzzard is still alive and well, in this winter bliss
All my good friends here on the net, I sure do miss
Well the bad moon may be rising, so it's time to beware
If you look at the moon tonight, you just may see me there

HEY!!!
I don't want to blow, the buzzards bad boy image

Through The Buzzard's Eyes

The Great Canadian Buzzard
Scratching Out Yet Another Write
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Bad Moon Rising ~ Midi