Music Rusty Blake
words and recital rittmo'
God Only Knows
down along the pier
with the metal walk bridges
and the seaguls honking
the sails inverting
nervously flapping
while the fisherman
untie their knots
there's a lot to be said
for the flip and flop of reality
the clink and the clank
of feet, amongst the rushing tide
it may not be glamourous
but it certainly is alive
as the ships pull out of the docks
it's going to be another day
of man against the elements
the wind, the splash, the burn
which in a poets eye may be majestic
but for those on deck
the poets are but jesters
a distant whistle in the clouds
that whether they like it or not
time will find time to allow
and while the young and stout
lay their nets for the days fish to take,
the oldtimers, go at it the old fashioned way
with fishing pole and a line
along the edges of the shore
it's easy to see, they could be blind
as they fill their buckets one more time
as the sunset waves goodbye
they'll be the first to raise a toast
to the days catch
and naturally the brews will flow
washing down the salt to where
God only knows
and naturally the brews will flow
washing down the salt to where
God only knows
rittmo'