The Fever 

I can smell the noble fir,
As the wind whips through the air,
First day of the season I'm all pumped that we got here.
The coffee's on and daylights creepin,
The suns comin over the hill,
I wish they could bottle this rush I'm on and press it in a pill.

I got the Fever, the fever, the fever I cant take it's got ahold of me.
I got the Fever, the fever, the fever that I get in the high country.

Now I load up the pack I own,
The Outdoor Edge is my fave,
I'm sportin the Montana Bowslings, game bags and razor blades.
I'm about to send it mountain style,
Let that canyon ring,
From the depths of Phelps Grey Amp frame , we'll see what it will bring.

I got the Fever, the fever, the fever I cant take it's got ahold of me.
I got the Fever, the fever, the fever that I get in the high country.

Now we roll off a hogback ridge a mile or two away,
Fightin the rocky ground,
A bunch of branches in my way.
The echo of an angry bull sets the mood and sparks the fire,
And kicks my fever into full swing,
It's on like a livewire.

I got the Fever, the fever, the fever I cant take it's got ahold of me.
I got the Fever, the fever, the fever that I get in the high country.


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