I'm goin' fishin' down to that old fishin' hole.
On my bicycle on a warm sunny day.
Shirt off. Wind and sun on my back.
Everything is goin' good and my way.
Farmers' dogs suddenly come running out,
Stop by the roadside bank to find a sweet treat.
At the end of the long ride is a meandering river.
For the fish left behind are hungry for a bite.
Other days are more relaxed and laid-back.
A kingfisher flits in and out of the sun dappled trees,
It's time to go home so as not to miss supper.
If a storm came up unawares on the way,
Some days goin' fishin' I come home with some.
Casting for bass at my girlfriend's father's pond near Paducah Kentucky 1970
Inspired by Dan Farmer's story of boyhood fishing...