(Refrain) Home, Home up at camp.
With my backpack and staff let me tramp
through the forests and glens,
over fields, streams and fens,
with a gang of my best Scouting friends.
Oh give me a tent
and an outdoor event
and you’ll never hear me complain.
Where no one takes note
if you smell like a goat,
nor insists you come out of the rain!
Oh just let me lie,
‘neath the starry night sky
with the hoot owls and the raccoons at play.
And at dawn let me soak,
up the smell of wood smoke
’tis the stuff of which mem’ries are made!
(To the Tune of “Home, Home on the Range”