Текст песни The Legend '97 - Steve Cook

A cool summer morning in early June, is when the legend began, at a nameless logging camp in Wexford County, where the Manistee River ran.
Eleven lumberjacks near the Garland swamp found an animal they thought was a dog.
In a playful mood they chased it around till it ran inside a hollow log.
A logger named Johnson grabbed him a stick and poked around inside.
Then the thing let out an unearthly scream and came out and stood upright.
None of those men ever said very much, ′bout what ever happened then.
They just packed up their belongings and left that night, were never heard from again.
It was ten years later in '97, when a farmer near Buckley was found.
Slumped over his plow, his heart had stopped, there were dog tracks all around.
Seven years passed with the turn of the century, they say a crazy old widow had a dream, of dogs that circled her house at night that walked like men and screamed.
In 1917, a sheriff who was out walking found a driverless wagon and tracks in the dust, like wolves had been a stalkin′.
Near the roadside a four-horse team lay dead with their eyes open wide.
When the vet finished up his examination, he said it looked like they died of fright.
In '37 a schooner captain said, several crew members had reported a pack of wild dogs roaming Bowers Harbor.
His story was never reported.
In '57 a man of the cloth found claw marks on an old church door.
The newspaper said they′d been made by a dog, he′d a had to stood 7'4".
In ′67 a van-load of hippies, told a park-ranger named Quinlinn, they'd been awakened in the night by a scratch at the window, there was a dogman looking in and grinning.
In ′77 there were screams in the night, near the village of Bellaire.
Could've been a bobcat, could′ve been the wind, nobody looked up there.
Then in the summer of '87, near Luther, it happened again... at a cabin in the woods it looked like maybe, someone had tried to break in.
There were cuts around the doors that could only been made by very sharp teeth and claws.
He didn't wear shoes cuz he didn′t have feet.
He walked on just two paws.
So far this year, no stories have appeared.
Have the dogmen gone away?
Have they disappeared?
Soon enough I guess we′ll know, cuz this is the time to fear, for another ten years has come around, the seventh year is here and somewhere in the north-woods darkness, a creature walks upright.
And the best advice you may ever get is never to go out...
At night.