Was going through some old ideas for songs. I'm probably the world's unlikliest songwriter -- I don't play an instrument; the only singing request I ever get is 'shut up' and I'm a long, long way from Music City.
However, thanks to some talented co-writers I have had some of my words set to music and even recorded, occasionally by singers like Canada's Anne Murry and Red Stegall, poet laureate of Texas. Never made much money at it, but had a lot of fun.
Anyway, the idea for this lyric came from the 'old days' -- late seventies, early eighties -- no tracking collars or training pens. You hauled your hounds out to somewhere you hoped wouldn't keep folks awake; built your fire and laid out your sleeping bag on the ground in case things slacked off.
Around daylight, sooner or later, your hounds started straggling in tired, but happy. A good all night fox race -- sounds like hell, feels like heaven.
Anyway, hope a few old codgers can relate....

The Hounds of Hell

Sun sinks down and settles -- in the low, red western sky
Night falls -- in a cool, dark velvet flood
Mosquitoes break the silence -- their steady, static buzz--
Flying in an endless quest for blood
While Red -- the red fox -- patterns cats cradle trails of tracks
The hounds must sort -- before you have a race
And a distant horned owl tells you -- he'll soon be dropping 'round
To see who breaks the silence of this place

Chorus:
The cedar spreads its welcome light -- hardwood starts to hiss
Dew falls 'round the fire -- a cool and welcome mist
Then your strike hound sounds his round notes -- that you know so well
And soon you'll be in heaven -- listening to the hounds of hell

The red fox has been hunting -- but now his world has turned
And he's become the hunted -- once again
Old Red's met every challenge -- the flying pack's laid down
And he's here to meet that challenge -- once again
The music starts as slowly -- as the prelude to a song
Sung by a chorus of demons in the night
Then it crashes on the hardwood hills -- its wild, unearthly sound
Tells you that Old Red's been put to flight

Chorus:
They've lost him in the cedar swamp -- he doubled on his track
He watches their confusion -- as he sits looking back
Until one finds the hot scent -- and Old Red -- he knows well
He must be off an running -- fleeing from the hounds of hell

Tag:
Now you've learned sophistication -- in the better brand of schools
And you should know better than to love the chase
But something deep inside you -- has slipped out of its chains
As you listen to that wild and ancient race
And now the pack falls silent -- at the den on Oak Ridge Hill
Red has got to ground -- with ease
Sunlight fills the eastern sky -- it's circled full around
And the hounds of hell are nuzzling your knees.

Say old friend, there you go again!! You were showing great talent and tongue tayloring lyrics, but alas...you only have the vision of a walker hound race. This is how the verse should go with July hounds in chase...
You think you've heard the best music-- with the walker hounds pursuit of old red
somewhere in the distance, the rythm seems to quicken as Julys put in to get ahead
As if they were demons in pursuit of their prey, they walker hounds go silent all in disarray.
And before the coffee in your cup can get cold, those july hounds in full cry put old red in his hole.........

We better hope they did, old friend, or I'd have a lot of company around the fire before daylight.

ERIC YOU MIGHT AS WELL GO AHEAD AND JOIN UP NOW THEN YOU AND RODNEY CAN DO A DUET.... RODNEY IS PRETTY MUCH MUSICAL INCLINED AND THAT IS THE TRUTH......

Not sure if you guys have had the privilege, but Rodney is truly very musically inclined, as well as sings a pretty good note! You guys need to get him to bring his guitar and get him to play a few.

Charlie, As long as I get to pick the material, I think this can work.

It would probably wind up as "Hounds,mules and two old fools"

Rodney, I think you may be on to something.