When It’s All About Fishing

I’ve decided to change my tempo for this blog — bad pun intended. Being a life-long (but now retired) musician I love all kinds of music and I think I’ve already established that I love to fish.

Well, here’s what happens when two world’s collide.  This is my top two favorite songs about fishing (so far).

Fishing With Bill
(Greg Brown)

Man what a winter,   
Sorrow wide and deep.
Is it just the media industry or the whole country
That is turning into sheep?
I wanna go to a good place
With a friend of mine,
Cast our souls out in the river
And watch the whole deal shine.
Some little crick in Massachusetts, just over the hill,
Oh I, I’m goin’ fishin’ with Bill.

Well, Bill, I bet he is a good fly caster.
He grew up on these eastern brooks.
Me, I grew up on the midwestern cricks
Casting crappie flies for chubs and such.
But in my young imagination,
I watched a Number 20 Coachman settle down,
Sitting by the stove in that little library
Reading Roderick L. Haig Brown.
I never did fish in Vancouver. I probably never will.
I don’t care. I’m goin’ fishin’ with Bill.

Well, it’s a long and noble tradition,
Catching trout on the fly.
When you’re done, with the setting of the sun,
Gonna drink a little bourbon if you’re dry.
See some folks out on the river,
Cool, scientific and clean.
They look like everything just kinda stuck to them
The last time they walked through ol’ L. L. Bean.
My friend, Dave, says the good fishermen are the ones who have fun and we will.
Oh I, I’m goin’ fishin’ with Bill.

Sittin’ in a bar in Brattleboro
Thinkin’ about one of his songs.
The rain was pourin’ down, and I was pourin’ it down,
And all I could do was hum along.
We’ve talked about goin’ fishin’ so often
At some party when the gig was done.
Well, life slips by like a little dry fly
Sliding down a deep slick run,
So let us stand steady like an old mill.
Oh I, I’m goin’ fishin’ with Bill.

Maybe Handsome Molly will pass by
As we cast away the hours.
Somewhere on a river somewhere far away
From stupid people in positions of power.
Someday when we ain’t folk singers
Flyin’ through the friendly skies.
We won’t be waiting for the big break
Or anything except the evening rise
On some spring crick in Wisconsin or maybe the Batten Kill.
Oh I, I’m goin’ fishin’ with Bill.
I’m goin’ fishin’ with Bill…um um um,
I’m goin’ fishin’ with Bill…yes, I am,
I’m goin’ fishin’ with Bill.

(ad lib fishing conversation)

Fish And Whistle
(John Prine)
As sung on Bruised Orange 1989

I been thinking lately about the people I meet
The carwash on the corner and the hole in the street
The way my ankles hurt with shoes on my feet
I’m wondering if I’m gonna see tomorrow

(chorus)
Father forgive us for what we must do
You forgive us and we’ll forgive you
We’ll forgive each other ’til we both turn blue
And we’ll whistle and go fishing in the heavens

I was in the army but I never dug a trench
I used to bust my knuckles on a monkey wrench
I’d go to town and drink and give the girls a pinch
I don’t think they ever even noticed me

(chorus)

Fish and whistle, whistle and fish
Eat everything that they put on your dish
When we get through we’ll make a big wish
That we never have to do this again, again! Again!

On my very first job I said thank-you and please
They made me scrub a parking lot down on my knees
Then I got fired for being scared of bees
And they only give me fifty cents an hour

Fish and whistle, whistle and fish
Eat everything that they put on your dish
When we get through we’ll make a big wish
That we never have to do this again, again! Again!

(chorus)

We’ll whistle and go fishing in the heavens
We’ll whistle and go fishing in the heavens