The fish were gone His lake dried up What's a man to do? When steady bites And successful trips Were all he ever knew. Without the thrill Of a grand ole catch His boat would just sit empty. And the fate of a life Filled with empty hooks Was a burden, one too many. So he went to the lake Where he found his peace And parted with his pain. But he left us ashore With our broken poles And the need to fish again. He cast his line One final time Now with different intentions. He became the bait For the grandest catch Never again, a fisherman... I love you Dad...