Fishermen

"The fishermen are pitching pennies
In the sand beside the sea;
The sunrise hits their oilskin boots
And their painted boats and me.
They seem to know the ocean
Like a man knows a woman;
She makes him wait around for half the morning,
For the tide to turn.

Pull on the ropes, Seine haul fisherman
Never catches more than he knows
He can sell in a day;
Pull on the ropes, Seine haul fisherman:
Day's for work. Night's the time to go dancing.

They're drinking beer and laughing
And squinting at the sun,
Waiting for the gulls to tell them
When the fish will come.
Their faces brown and weathered
From all the nets they've run...
They've learned to wait
They always know that the tide will turn."


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"Pull on the ropes, Seine haul fisherman
Never catches more than he knows
He can sell in a day;
Pull on the ropes, Seine haul fisherman:
Day's for work. Night's the time to go dancing!

Way out on the ocean,
The big ships hunt for whales -
The Japanese have caught so many
That now they hunt for snails
My fisherman's not greedy;
He seems content to live
With the sun and the sand,
And a net full of fish when the tide turns...

Pull on the ropes, Seine haul fisherman
Never catches more than he knows
He can sell in a day;
Pull on the ropes, Seine haul fisherman:
Day's for work. Night's the time to go dancing!

Pull on the ropes, Seine haul fisherman
Never catches more than he knows
He can sell in a day;
Pull on the ropes, Seine haul fisherman:
Day's for work. Night's the time to go dancing."

(Judy Collins)