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The Fisherman Lyrics


Michael McGuire The Fisherman


THE FISHERMAN
© Electric Babylon Music Author: M.M.


He told the story these days with hardly a trace of bitterness at all, he
said god put that tree in my road to help me hear the call, you see Billy
Bateman and I were fishing buddies for six long years, every single
Sunday we’d hit the lake with our rods and a few beers, and my life
was a simple routine that made perfect sense to me, didn’t realize I
was taking so much for granted if you don’t look you don’t see, but
trust is like a tool that never gets taken out of the tool box, and it can
leave your fishing boat smashed upon the rocks.
The fisherman will always be lost, the fisherman learns to pay the cost,
a world contingent upon the will of the bate, a life delivered to the
palm of fate.
We had some hard times and my Katie took a job at the plant; Billy was
her boss, we celebrated that night I watched her and Billy dance a
waltz, we all joked Katie what if your new boss wants more than a slow
dance, she said you’d have to give me a lot more than a job to get in
my pants, it was the best of times; seemed like nothing could go
wrong, but “heaven has a trap door” as they say in that song, I’ve often
wondered how Billy could bear to sit with me in that boat every week,
but thinking back there were some days when he didn’t hardly speak.
Well when I first found out I couldn’t believe it and then suddenly I
knew it was true, it made more sense than the sense of two and two, it
was Billy’s wife Alice that came to the house and told me that day, she
cried and cried and talked about how she would make him pay, when
she left I got my thirty eight and I really felt like I could kill, I hit the
gas with a rage but on the way there I pulled off and just slumped over
the wheel, it’s all over now and god and the church helped pull me
thru, and I will find myself a new bride someday; one who loves the
lord just as much as I do.
The fisherman will always be lost, the fisherman learns to accept the
cost, a world delivered by the balm of belief, a life contingent on the
will of grief.

Nov00



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