Fishing For Memories
One day I took to fishing,
far out beyond the shore,
wearing my father's waders,
the ones I always adored.
Back when I was little,
the fish seemed much bigger,
I would watch my father's casting,
his hook landing in the middle.
When all the fish came biting,
and my father would give a yell,
the water would call awake,
the biggest of fish tales.
The best memories of him,
are casted to way above,
and when I wear his waders,
he'll know I'm sending love.
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