Fish Ships Foot by Erin

A cigar in mouth, bad smell all around,
the crumpled old man throws a net into the Puget Sound.
His hands are gnarled, his face weather beaten,
he has only a coffee and a small sandwich for lunch
which he will be eatin'.
Forty years of his life, he's been working the shore,
throwing out his ship's nets and hoping for more.
His foot anchors back, his weight is a leanin',
he sees the fish coming and his pot will soon be steamin'.
A heavy load this is, he fish are a bounty
for a man and his net in this poor county.
The Lord He gives and Lord he takes away,
for this old sailor the Lord gives His Son Jesus and today.