My Pop shipped out to sea and he fished quite a lot

He caught all the codfish to fill up the pot

He stalked Georges Banks, up against all the currents

He dragged in his gear, no existing deterrents

He learned all the rules and he mastered the game

And he came home to hold his fat, blonde baby Gabe

The next time he came home, I was walking around

Later riding in cars with the boys in my town

I drove him straight mad, my risks had no bounds

And he worried the way he’s still worrying now

Yet he is who showed me to surf a new wave

The clear skies, the hurricanes, the hardest of days

He pointed out all of the currents and rocks

The buoys the lights and the dangerous docks

The fog horn’s boom and the lighthouse beams

And that’s how he trained a wild mermaid like me

In our fiberglass skiff we traveled the waters

Every spring in the sun, we painted the bottom

25 Horsepowers on the move

Great Harbor and Hadley’s and Tarpolin Cove

I helped him one summer cleaning the Nobska

Painting and grinding, sun-burnt up like a lobsta

I complained and I bitched and then I would cry

He said “figure it out” and “you must always try”

‘Cause that’s what he did, and that’s how he scored

The hardest-working man on the Eastern Seaboard

And he’s not always nice, he’s a little bit rough

The salt did a number, stress added the crust

But I love him so much, he’s the rarest of breeds

Happy Father’s Day Pop, You’re the man of my dreams.

Cerca 1985