When I was a boy, did I love fishin,
I would always catch a fish,
Instead of just wishin.

I would simply drop my line,
And sit in the shade,
Oh that was fine.

I had a bamboo pole.
I would go to the,
Ole fishin hole.

Poor ole Mom would clean what I caught,
She would fry it up, but my family wouldn’t eat it,
So my fishin went for not.

Now that I’m old and grey,
I go fishin,
Almost every day.

I on my pole hook a fly,
I look like a pro. But all I come home with,
Is a lie.

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