Down by the lake with the tackle box and bait
Sun disappears behind the distant tree line
A painters sky stays behind, and the fishers wait
Bobbers floating, bullfrogs croaking; the peace is divine
Night crawlers, Minos, and lily pads
Fresh cut grass, corn fields, and nature’s mass
Young kids restless, while poles are prepared by dads
Sinkers, hooks, and a case of beer to make it last
Fishing until the sun tells us it’s getting late
Down by the lake with the tackle box and bait
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