| Carolina time, grab the fishing line
|
| Gonna get old Jim with the yellow-backed fly
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| Bought it in a store, paid a little more
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| Gonna catch that fish with the yellow-backed fly
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| Tried it last June with a lit firefly
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| Layed it on the water with a perfect bullseye
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| Well Jim made a splash, gone in a flash
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| Beneath the water I heard him laugh
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| I go at six am, quiet as a hymn
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| Gonna catch old Jim with the Yellow-Backed Fly
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| Gonna catch him right, gonna catch him quick
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| Take him by surprise at the bottom of the crick (creek)
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| (Bridge)
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| He lives beneath a rock, underneath the shade
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| I will have him made with the yellow-backed fly
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| Here I am at last, lying in the grass
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| A quiet little cast with the yellow-backed fly
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| Felt a little tug, well Jim had bit the bug
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| Then I let him run with the yellow-backed fly
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| Jumped up on the land, spit it in my hand
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| He said «Nice try with the yellow-backed fly»
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| (Bridge)
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| Then he swam away, I gave him a farewell
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| Now I’m going home with a story to tell
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| I put the truck in gear, I’ll be back next year
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| Gonna make a fly with a hypnotizing eye
|
| I go at six am, quiet as a hymn
|
| Gonna catch old Jim with the yellow-backed fly
|
| Twenty inches long, measured with a stick
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| He’s old Jim but to me he’s Moby Dick
|
| I go at six am, quiet as a hymn
|
| Gonna catch old Jim with the yellow-backed fly
|
| Twenty inches long, measured with a stick
|
| He’s old Jim but to me he’s Moby Dick |