Aren't Scoutmasters grand
For the programs they plan
And the hours they put in each night?
If they're ever home
You know they're on the phone
For the boys who they want to teach right.  

(Refrain)
Home, home in the woods.  
On weekends that's where they all stay!
Where they do their best, And never get rest, Oh, when will they
ever get pay?

They hike to their site
Though it takes half the night
Through the wind and the rain
 and the snow!
These leaders so brave
They could live in a cave
Except that their wives just say No!

(Refrain)

Camp food tastes just great,
Like an old paper plate,
And the bug juice is not fit to drink.  
So why every year
For a week they come here
It's not for vacation, we think!

(Refrain)

They feel like old men.  
On a camp out, they've been.  
To be clean, to be warm, to be dry!
But to tell you the Truth,
They're re-living their youth,
So in answer they merely reply!

We're at home in the woods.  
On weekends with our troop we stay.  
Though we never get rest,
The boys are doing their best,
And that's what we're getting for pay!