Its raining, and I'm probably heading home to my island after graduation. So, Billy speaks to me.
Now I drive my Downeaster "Alexa"
More and more miles from shore every year
Since they tell me I can't sell no stripers
And there's no luck in swordfishing here.
I was a bayman like my father was before
Can't make a living as a bayman anymore
There ain't much future for a man who works the sea
But there ain't no island left for islanders like me
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment