Gone Fishing

All the while we sit wishing, that we could go fishing, but here come the gusting winds, this endless odd weather, let's pray it gets better, so we can go snag some fins! All the while we just sit, we should be rippin' some lip, sick of the thunder and rain, we should be in a boat, upon the river afloat, to keep us from going insane. As the sun fills the skies, it stifles our sighs, we get our poles ready to cast, the rain has now stopped, we head away from the dock leaving our worries in the past.