The Fisherman's Love Poem
I wake up in the morning and I grab my pole
And take down to that fishy smelling hole
You know that snapper wants to hurt my little worm
But that big ole nasty fishy got a deadly germ
Once my line is in the hole and good and wet
You know that my landing a whopper is a sure bet
So I plant my feet and take an extra tight grip on my rod
Because if I fall in this fishy hole I’ll be praying to god
So I’m rocking back and forth and my pole’s starting to bend
And reeling and releasing if my rod snaps it’s the end
But my line went limp just when I thought the battle had been lost
And I fell on my back and my equipment had all been fish sauced
The moral of the story is like making a wish
If you don’t want you fingers and hands to smell like a fish
I’ll make it real simple but you’ll get the gist
No matter how tempted, keep your rod in your fist
2006-07-29
15:50:12
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