When Fish Won’t Bite

There comes a spell in ev’ry year when things are standin’ still,

There ain’t no ‘parent signs uv life in valley, plain or hill;

The water hez a lazy look, the skies are dead an’ white,

An’ even in ol’ Lizzard Crick the

                   Fish

                             Won’t

                                       Bite.

Life hez no meanin’ the fur me an’ ev’rything is wrong;

There ain’t no music uv the spheres an’ life hez lost its song.

I can’t get settled down to facts, I cannot read or write,

I can’t enjoy three meals a day when

                   Fish

                             Won’t

                                      Bite.

I jest would like to go to sleep an’ sleep the hours away,

An' not wake up till some fine morn, jest at the break uv day,

When ev’rything wuz all cleared up an’ things wuz lookin’ bright,

And there wuz signs along the Crick thet

                   Fish

                             Would

                                      Bite.

July 19, ‘08