Fishtales

Once upon a time in the days of yore
When the people lived fresh out
Of legend and folklore
There was an old geezer with a fever to curb
He had a hook, and a line, and a sinker
And a worm
Slept in a city that kissed the seashore
Woke with a bait-and tackle
Store trip each morn
Not a bother, not a lot to say
That is until you ask about
The one that got a-w-w-w-way

Like a tall tale, keep it rod and reel
With his arms stretched out
To define the kill
While the village always listened
Believin' him was different
Out of eight million stories there
Was not a single witness
It was always at the last
Second when the line snapped
Or the boat broke in half from
The size of the catch
Either way the documented proof didn't exist
So the locals dismissed the big f-f-f-fish

Billy-goat beard twenty years in the making
Carry lures in his brim
Carry beer in his waders
Stink like alcohol of all prominent flavors
Carry knives in his vest
Carry war in his nature
Sat among the forest floor
Critters and pine cones
And tied a perfect fly with his eyes closed
Veteran angler with a mission to run
Make all naysayers hold t-t-t-tongues

Pale blue moon or fiery orange glow
Red sky at dawn or rain, hail, sleet, snow
Black storm cloud with the barometric horrors
The weatherproof sportsman spins
Yarns regardless
Laugh if you wanna, but the dude ain't stupid
Let it roll off his back
Like drizzle off plumage
Cause he woke with a twinkle in his eye
Like "Every dog has his day
And today is m-m-m-mine"