1. The Family


The family

My great grandfather was a whaler, went to sea and far away
Hunted whales near to extinction, left their lives in disarray
He’d throw the harpoon on the sleighride, deep and keen into the mark
And follow as the targets weakened, 2 by 2 like Noah’s Ark
Ch Oh who would be a fisherman

My grandfather fished the herring, silver shoal by silver shoal
So that folk could have their breakfast, now there’s nothing left to trawl
Roll ‘em up and smoke ‘em woody, barrel after barrel full
To the fishwives in the morning, listen to the seagull’s call

My own dear father chased the Tunny, ‘til there were no more for sport
Caught them with the rich and famous, always more or so they thought
Fished the Tunny out from Scarborough, just enough to make it pay
Hunters catch and kill and photo, no more Tunny there today

I’ve fished cod for 30 years now, caught them big and caught them small
Caught them on their breeding grounds, until I had caught them all
Pass my boat and all my tackle, down the line and to my son
So that he may sail the 7 and wonder where the fish have gone

No one fishes for the future, no one catches what they need
No one thinks about tomorrow with all those hungry mouths to feed
All those years a fishing family, all those years upon the sea
Ghosts of all the men in longboats, killers on the silver seas

Who would be a fisherman x 3