Out Fishin’

A feller isn’t thinkin’ mean, out fishin’;
His thoughts are mostly good an’ clean, out fishin’.
he doesn’t knock his fellow men, or harbor any grudges then;
a feller’s at his finest when out fishin’.

The rich are comrades to the poor,out fishin’;
all brothers of a common lure, out fishin’.
the urchin with the pin an’ string can chum with millionaire an’ king;
vain pride is a forgotten thing, out fishin’.
a feller gits a chance to dream, out fishin’;

He learns the beauties of a stream, out fishin’;
an’ he can wash his soul in air that isn’t foul with selfish care,
an’ relish plain and simple fare, out fishin’.

A feller has no time fer hate,out fishin’;
he isn’t eager to be great, out fishin’.
he isn’t thinkin’ thoughts of pelf, or goods stacked high upon a shelf,
but he is always just himself, out fishin’.

A feller’s glad to be a friend, out fishin’
a helpin’ hand he’ll always lend, out fishin’.
the brotherhood of rod an’ line an’ sky and stream is always fine;
men come real close to god’s design, out fishin’.

A feller isn’t plotting schemes, out fishin’;
he’s only busy with his dreams, out fishin’.
his livery is a coat of tan, his creed -to do the best he can;
a feller’s always mostly man, out fishin’.