| On the surface of the lake
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| Thousand sunbeams playing their game
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| The line is marking its own way
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| Through the mirror of the day
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| And the boat is gliding slowly
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| Early in the morning glow
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| The flash of silver will follow
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| Is calling the green beast from below
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| Soon its tail raises the mud
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| The beast is ready for attack
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| The reel screams the line begins to run
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| And the struggle shall begin
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| Bites the lure — a massive bonehead
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| Pulling hard — blending water
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| In the boat — a firm man standing
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| The fight is on — to hook the monster
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| And with butter it will be fried
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| Gulped down with great desire
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| But soon this tall and fairy man
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| A fishbone in his throat he will fall
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| Bites the lure — a massive bonehead
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| Pulling hard — blending water
|
| In the boat — a firm man standing
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| The fight is on — to hook the monster |