Give me road trips filled with 90's music,
take me fishing or I just might lose it,
Texas lakes, or the gulf coast,
with too much work I'm diagnosed.

I need 'Merica's, and **** rights,
and I need you to get it together tonight,
we know whats going on in the world today,
the news is all bad, so lets go play.

Drop the boat in the water and hollering WOOOOO!
full throttled boat, out on the bay with my crew,
all my buddies gathered from far and wide
we're going fishing, no matter the tide.

The water is flat and the sun is shining magnifico,
we're from Arizona, Texas, Florida and New Mexico
get together once or twice a year,
telling stories and drinking beer.

Cutting bait and casting lines,
generally having one hell of a time,
doesn't matter if its reds or speckled trout,
just put us on the coast and let us out.

Slabs of purple granite
sink into to the sea
marking the way
into the bay

Long rolling waves
raise and lower
all of the boats
anchored afloat

Dolphins patrol near by
as the ladyfish jump
the pelicans and other birds fly
looking for fish from the sky

We sink live shrimp
or chunks of cut bait
waiting for a bite
for a moment, all with the world is right

Shadows, large and small
Coast through the viridian pool
Lit from below
In still waters

A miniature pond
On a black lake
Full of night dwellers
In full light

Observed from over head
On the upper deck
Of the boat house
On the intercoastal waterway

Different shaped shadows
Long and skinny
Round and short
The occasional monster

Swims through
Dispersing the others
For a while
We watch

Anticipating the next shadow
And comment on what it is
And whether we can catch it
On a rod and reel

The sun beats down
the waves make a laughing sound
my buddy sits, picking at a backlash
its a dollar a fish, and I'm taking his cash

As I catch bass on every other cast
he sighs loudly, still on his ***
I tell him to cut it and just restring
he says but I just put line on this **** thing

The wind cools the dripping sweat
while he is sitting there, I say hand me the net
as I boat another big fish
he looks for a Genie to make his wish

I look at his knees, they are glowing beet red
I am glad I put sunscreen on my face and head
he goes to stand, finally retied
he moans loudly, his knees are fried

Too late now, to apply lotion
tomorrow in jeans, he wont enjoy any motion
as the denim, rubs the blisters more raw
and I give him the total, from the fish that I caught

See I caught bass, the number  twenty three
while he was backlashed or stuck in a tree
He finally did manage to catch some
but too little to late the damage was done

He hands me a twenty
I go to slap a knee
his fist comes up and waves at me
then his ******* is finally set free

I say when are we fishing again
tomorrow evening he says with a grin
See no matter how good, or bad the bite is
its always better than work, taking care of the biz

Midnight, stars twinkle
mosquitos buzz
the sound of flowing water
an occasional splash

A bull frog croaks out a beat
and the tree frogs sing harmony
the owl lead sings from the trees
and the cicada sings backup

My black light illuminates
the night purple
as flying insects glow
as does the crawling scorpion

Monofilament fishing line
creates purple lines
running into the water
like lasers fired

Watching and waiting
on the riverbank
for the line to quiver
and the rod to bend

Night crawlers squirm
in their styrofoam bowl
waiting their turn
to search for catfish

Into the depths she glides
Natures killing machine
Muscles and teeth
The great white
Looks up at the surface

Waiting, waiting
For a seal to silhouette
In the sun
Suddenly with a thrusting tail
Heads to the surface like a torpedo

Collision course
Seal impact
Teeth gnash
Blood runs
Lunch is served

Melting snow creates a stream
running down the mountainside
like a vivid night of dreams
ending in the foaming tide

Valley lake full of trout
top of water, insects float
on the edges cattails sprout
not sufficiently deep  for a boat

Cold clear water in I wade
casting my fly to the shore
I spy motion in the shade
stripping back cast once more

The fly hits the cattails base
a swirl and a flash below
moving fly, trout gives chase
incoming, stripping slow

Trout is caught and in my creel
wade back to the lakes edge
in the truck behind the wheel
driving home on mountains edge

Flash them in the light
Vibrate them in the night

Glass flat water clear as a crystal
No blemish detected not even a ripple
4 wheel drive brought me here
A tent some food and a cooler of beer

A week here will be just fine
All alone, to clear my mind
Commune with god in my outdoor church
Untangle my thoughts out of this lurch

A couple of fishing rods, tackle and bait
Looking for dinner, fish to pull my line straight

Put on a chub on let it sink to the bottom
that one sits, take a walk, see if I can spot them
One rod out, fly rod in hand, ease around the edge
Cast out with my fly, I see a flash by a ledge

Trout hits my fly and the fight is on
Work him in until his fight is gone

Dinner in the creel, I look around
Other rod bent over clear to the ground
Run over to it and set the hook
Something pulls back,  deep I can't give it a look

The fight is on reel screams out drag
whatever this is will cause me to brag
I win the fight, a 42 inch pike
Stocked for the week, I'll go on a hike

Fished till the last possible moment
approaching storm is a formidable opponent
bounding from wave to wave I skip.
speed is king on this trip.
lightning and thunder growl behind me,
rain chases like a cheetah quickly
I see the point and make the turn.
cut wide and around the sand bar I burn.
under the dock we go to hide,
from the storm, the boat and I.

Well the Josh Abbot Band sings Matagorda Bay
but I’m pretty sure it’s all the wrong way
should be I’ve been walking it all day
casting a shrimp or mullet along the way
whether the river, the surf or the bay
or even  the intercoastal waterway

You can never go wrong fishing here
from the bank, the beach, or even the pier
maybe spring, or maybe fall
you will always have a ball
with your dad, in laws or college friends
it always pays in dividends

Of reds, whiting, croaker and trout
usually followed by a cookout
sometimes black drum or maybe a ray
either way, make them pay all day
casting a squid or maybe a mullet
the fish always bite, take it and tug it

After dark on a green light
try as you might
you just can’t find a lure they won’t bite
when the tide changes and shrimp are running
two at a time is for what you are gunning
tired, and sore, but you are tough

All night long until enough is enough
then to bed for some shut eyed dreams
then up again, as the morning sun gleams
do it again, as it never lasts

Creating memories of the past
to share with friends
and also the kids
of Matagorda Bay

Cedar Creek Fishing Back in the day
flipping under docks and casting all day
nosing out my buddy trying to win the bet
it’s a dollar a fish and it’s not over yet

Catching bass and crappie and sometimes a perch
driving the boat always on the search
for the next big bass, or sometimes a beer
fishing lights after dark on the end of a pier

White bass and hybrids, pulling ******* the line
laughing and joking and feeling fine
slabs and traps, and a Texas rig
every now and then just taking a swig

Tequila sunrise worms or watermelon seed
the fish are biting and are on a feed
describing a bite pulling on my buddies sleeve
casting in my spot is a big pet peeve

All-star rods, worm bag that’s full
casting out waiting on the Tap, Tap, Pull
set the hook, watch the fish tail walk
it’s been a great day out on the stalk

Swim along chasing shad
Under docks with shade
Tail walk just for the fun