Lyrics:
he was a boy
It's a blue day
We could go fishing
You'll catch the big one
Sliding the knife under the skin
Grateful for this offering
And all
After Hours it was cool
Ten after one I think I'll hop the horse
Downtown late of three of course
Just came from fishing couldn't get a catch
His life is that blue bike
Ball glove and fishing pole
Tree house, BB Gun and Band-Aid covered knees
He does good delivering papers
And cuttin'
my days are done,
I want to be a fisherman.
Now years gone by we find man that rules the sea.
He sets out on a dark May morning .
To bring his
and stepping stones
Whiskey woman, campfire smoke
The ending of the day
Where you listen to the wind, whistle her tune
Coyotes sing by the light of the moon
Oh God, Oh God, life is real life
Is when you wanna sing Polly-Wally-Doodle all the day,
Well you know, I may well be a sequel to Jaws,
In which
sister and I recall once more
The fishing schooners pulling into shore,
And the dog-cart we drove in days before
But we don't talk about that.
day and the catfish play on Blue Bayou
Where the fishing boats with their sails afloat if I could only see
That familiar sunrise through sleepy eyes
Mrs. Blaileen - she was a sixth grade teacher
And she controlled the children
By using humiliation.
The target always seemed to be Donny.
He
a buzz
It's a wonderful day to be
Out here by the water
I got a cup full of some dirt
And them worms are sti
pinkies in the drawer"
She can be like a maiden from the days of yore
Hangin' out at Studio 54
Break-dancin' on the slick, brick disco floor
With Lionel
by the sea
I lost control here
Living free
I left my soul there
Down by the sea
I lost control here
Living free
Fishing boats sail past
Every morning I wake up
Put on a brand new day
Kiss my boy, grab my coat
Drive these 18 wheels away
With the words I miss you daddy
That echo in my
Suffocated by mirrors, stained by dreams
Her honey belly pulls the seams
Curves are still upon the hinge
Pale zeros tinge the tiger skin
Moist
I remember that day
Like it happened yesterday
The day I went fishing with Tom and Jim
Oh I couldn't have been more than seven years old
But that day
Up in Massachusetts There's a little spit of land.
The men who make the maps, yes, they call the place Cape Ann.
The men who do the fishing call it
Hope it don't rain all day
[Chorus]
And it stoned me to my soul
Stoned me just like Jelly Roll
And it stoned me
And it stoned me to my soul
in a coma
I'm super paid, 2 shows a day
My rollie gold, no time to waste
What it do Berg, my fuckin' brother
Keep that pistol by me like my lovely
by the sea
I lost control here
Living free
I left my soul there
Down by the sea
I lost control here
Living free
Fishing boats sail past
hitting wit mittens
I'm missing wishing man listen
I glisten like sun and water while fishing.
Bust the move and then swerve
Serve words with nerve
As cars go by I cast my mind's eye
Over back packs on roof racks
Beyond the horizon
Where dream makers
Working white plastic processors
Invite
didn't mind my rusty truck
Swinging by to pick you up
I missed your sweet face, it was six long days
Since I'd got to hang with you
And we'd throw
Well, they'll never talk to us if we fish Why don't
It's a beautiful day for fishing
What do you think? I like the one in the light hat
hitting wit mittens
I'm missing wishing man listen
I glisten like sun and water while fishing.
Bust the move and then swerve
Serve words with nerve
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