One the surface of the lake*
Thousand sunbeams playing their game
The line marking its own way
Through the mirror of the day

And the boat is gliding slow
Early in the morning glow
The flash of silver will follow
Is calling the green beast from below

Soon its tail raises the mud
The beast is ready for attack
The reel screams the line beings [bad word] And the [bad word] shall begin

Bites the lure a massive bonehead
Pulling hard Blending water
In the boat a firm man standing
The fight is one to hook the monster

And with butter it will be fried
Gulped down with great desire
But soon this tall and fairy man
fishbone in his throat he will fall

Bites the lure a massive bonehead
Pulling hard blending water
In the boat a firm man standing
The fight is one to hook the monster