Well you can imagine Old Joe,
As he hangs off his cloud,
That god gave him to keep,
And it made im’ so proud.

A hundred square acres,
Come hail or shine,
Of the best cloud in heaven,
Old Joe will be fine.

But what would he do,
From morning to night
If he couldn’t trap birds,
Would e’ be all right!

He met with St Peter,
Who never had a clue?
About Old Joe’s skills,
And what he could do.

I have to trap finches,
Maybe parrots as well,
I’m a trapper old boy,
Can’t you tell?

St Peter was excited,
Old Joe was his dream,
And he thanked the trapper,
For coming clean.

Old Joe you are magic,
I’m so glad you have no fear,
You can catch the birds,
That really bothers us here.

When can I start said Old Joe?
Keen to spring his trap,
And catch the birds you talk of,
That’ll put me on the map.

Tomorrow at two, St Peter said,
The first flock comes through,
Set your traps and be ready,
See what you can do.

Old Joe did what St Peter said,
Had his traps set at two,
But the flock never landed,
A flock of Virgin Blue.

I demand to see the boss,
And to God Old Joe was sent,
He complained about St Peter,
And the wasted time he’d spent.

How can I catch planes God?
Old Joe sincerely asked,
And Huey burst out laughing,
Old Joe your time has passed.