I remember me and grandpa and the way we used to fish
It was my childhood fantasy, my one and only wish.
I couldn’t wait to get there, but the ride was very long,
so we all sat back in our car and sang this special song.
You get a line, I’ll get a pole; we all know how it goes I guess
it’s just a song that everybody knows.
Over the hills and though the trees and there it finally is,
a massive structure of steel, the Missouri river bridge.
We cross the bridge slowly you know it’s not real wide,
and every time I’ve crossed that bridge I’ve felt a sense of pride.
The fever’s really got me now with not that far to go,
around the lake I see the boats and then there’s Big-a-low.
Grandma’s probably cooking and making something great,
she always saves a little bit even if we’re late.
The sights are now familiar; my palms begin to sweat,
can’t wait to fish with Grandpa and make our special bet.
So now I’m finally here and I guess it means just this,
that when the morning comes Ill get my fishing wish.
© Randy R. Patterson