Oct 302013
 
If I'd'a closed my eyes and wished,
I wouldn't switch a whisker of our rig.
Drift a bit, fish a bit.  Drift, fish.
A sunset catfish came along as big....
And we're still hopin' and hoppin' along,
Although the free branch of the Ohio
Has fair gone by like a faded song,
And what we're up to we don't rightly know.

Springtime's 'bout down to the last dribble;
Clouds keep the moon from breaking out,
And Jim's always goin' on about the Bible,
All them Pharaoh's men and whatnot.
It's a good raft, by Moses, tho' stolen--
Rudder-steady under drifting skies;
All the wisdom of old Solomon
Writ in winking fireflies.

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