Motor boat, motor boat, go so slow. Motor boat, motor boat, go so fast. Motor boat, motor boat, step on the gas.
Does anyone else remember this children’s nursery rhyme. Once you said, run so fast, you would take off running. I look around at people and they seem to be running hard to go nowhere. I prefer to take it easy.
The waves are always going to be rolling in. You never know about people.
It’s a matter of value, and I know where I stand; straight in the middle and to the right of the red bass.
I’m keeping my priorities straight.
Can you guess which one is the REAL Fish Head?
Two days ago, I caught this fish. It’s a red bass. My first, big, red bass. The fish latched aholt (I think this is a Southern term.) of the hook and swallowed it so hard, it would have been difficult to loose. But I didn’t know that, at the time. I reeled that fish as it swam hard, towards the rocks. It did everything to get away. That fish and I became one. The tide would pull it in and I would have to reel fast. The the tide would pull back and I could barely hang on. I was not going to let any slack in that line. I had to be strong to bring that fish on to the bank. I felt bad as it was drawing its last breath. It was so colorful; red and gold. It faded as the seconds went by and the sun set behind us.
Thirty years ago the Real Fish Head took me fishing. He latched aholt of me and like that fish I had no idea how set that hook was.
We have bigger fish to fry~you and I
We choose a different pan
We like our seasoning hot
We like our water cool
It’s a long way to our fishing hole
The fish are in our hands
You and I