Three Bloodhounds, Two Shepherds, One Fila Brasilia

My three bloodhounds were snuffing my land and told me what they found
They told about your hoofprints round my stalks, they got me cross
They told about your knuckled imprints on the bank of my farm-game's drink
So I sent out my three bloodhounds; they's a comin' to hunt you down
Their technique puts Choctaws and Chickasaws to leaf-eating shame
You won't know they're round till a wet nose is huffing in your ear
And a mouthful of canine is wrapped round your ankle, like the iron you s'posed to wear
And when the female blood has pinned your chest she'll howl to let me know your found

~Lo~

My three bloodhounds returned, and you they did not found
They had three bloody noses, three slouched backs, three tails between their legs
That got me cross so I sent to Europe for two of good shepherd stock
They arrived with attitude, lazed all day, rolled their eyes when I tried to send them out
They lifted their legs on my fence posts, so I had to put them shepherds down
I used their leg-bones for new fence posts, when from your hide I heard you howl

~Lo~

I've got one hope left, it's in the south
Souther than what you know about
It hunt Aztecs and Incas, Sundance and Butch
And Germans that skipped town
My Fila Brasilia will snack on my bloodhounds then use the posts to clean out it's mouth
My Fila Brasilia will stalk through my food crops, he's coming to hunt you down
My Fila Brasilia will walk in the tree tops, and on you fall down
My Fila Brasilia will burrow the earth's rock, he will root you out
My Fila Brasilia will walk on the water, my beast will not drown
My Fila Brasilia will stand on the mountain, all will hear him howl

~Lo~