I saw a little barefoot boy
With fishing pole in hand
Walking dow a winding road
Kicking at the sand
He reminded me of a boy from the past
Tom Sawyer, or maybe Huck Finn
I wa curious as to where he was going
So I followed him
He knew exactly where he was going
And sat beneath a spreading oak tree
He said "Hi Dad, I'm Here"
No, no one came with me
He seemed to be talking to a voice from nowhere
But soon he settled down
Fished in silence for a while
Then said "Bye Dad, see you tomorrow"
Then took the road back to town
Oh, how I envy this little boy
Who goes fishing with his dad
He'll never let the memory die
Of the good times that thay had
So I went home and got my pole
And felt extremly glad
As I went back to our private fishing hole
To go fishing with my dad
