It's not the kind of hook,
It's not the fly, that you tie.
(Although there's something to them.)

It's not the way, you snare,
It's just that certain style;
(It could be that with you.)

Do you have, a worm n' corn with you?
Sometimes, I use cheese.
Like to spend my life just fishing.

It's not the take-up
And it's not the, wading pants,
(It's not the evening sky.)

It's more the way your flies
are acting, as you cast
(across the river's tide.)

If I had a tacklebox like you,
I'd set it down behind me.
I would spend my life just fishing.

It's not fish you catch
It's not the bait, that you use
(It must be something more)

It's a good line, so very strong
Fry a trout, so lovely
(Just don't thrown it in the floor.)

If I had a tacklebox like you,
I'd set it down behind me.
I would spend my life just fishing.