Gone Fishin'

I'm tired of the daily race,
With everybody in their place,
I need to find some quiet space,
Gone fishin'.

To hurry here, and hurry there,
I shave my face and comb my hair,
I haven't got a thing to wear,
Gone fishin'.

I worry 'bout the things I've not,
Ignoring all the things I've got,
Which lay around until they rot,
Gone fishin'.

So I am getting out of here,
To catch some fish and have some cheer,
For life is not what it appears,
Gone fishin'.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul