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I once heard my grandfather say,
As he sat in his chair looking out at the bay:
I want you to promise me after I goes,
To bury me by the sea in my old fishing clothes.
I've been a fisherman all of my life,
And I've raised a fine family with my hard working wife;
Since fishing's the only real life that I knows,
When I die bury me in my old fishing clothes.
Bury me down by the sea,
Where the salt sea air breezes can blow over me;
Lay me close to the water where a gentle wind blows,
When I die bury me in my old fishing clothes.
I don't need a tie or a suit,
Dress me up in my oilskins and boots;
Tie down my sou'wester in case the wind blows,
When I die bury me in my old fishing clothes
Bury me down by the sea,
Where the salt sea air breezes can blow over me;
Lay me close to the water where a gentle wind blows,
When I die bury me in my old fishing clothes.
If you want to put me on display,
Sit me up in my dory way down by the bay;
Have me holding a codfish instead of a rose,
When I die bury me in my old fishing clothes.
Bury me down by the sea,
Where the salt sea air breezes can blow over me;
Lay me close to the water where a gentle wind blows,
When I die bury me in my old fishing clothes.
When I die bury me in my old fishing clothes.
