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He took all he got from God and a grade eight education,
Never had any other job, spent his life out on the sea;
He had taken so much cod from the time he was a young boy,
And for thirty-seven years, he got up at half past three.
Out before dawn in a small boat built for haulin',
Cod traps, some jiggin', could have gone on endlessly.
Now he feels just like a fish out of water,
It's land air he breathes.
Yes, he feels just like a fish out of water.
Will he ever sail again out to the fishin' water?
'Cause they told us, one and all, "Burn your boats and leave the sea."
Even though they didn't know fishin' boats could get so efficient,
And just how efficiently they could pick the ocean clean.
Out before dawn in a small boat built for haulin',
Cod traps, some jiggin', could have gone on endlessly.
Now he feels just like a fish out of water,
It's land air he breathes.
Yes, he feels just like a fish out of water.
And his heart squeezed at sea....
Yes, he feels just like a fish out of water.
He took all he got from God and a grade eight education.
