(Read Calabogie Lake first, if you have not yet already seen that one).
It's a great tale that I'm tellin'
Of Calabogie lake,
Though Halliwell will start yellin'
and his poor heart will break.
'Cause me mates and I went fishin'
in a quiet little bay,
And we caught a monster black bass
that towed the boat away.
You've never seen such a monster!
'Twas just as Frank described,
'Bout six foot long, I wager,
and maybe just as wide.
I was clingin' to that rod, mates
an' prayin' for me life,
And every time it cleared the water,
I knew I was in strife-
In its mouth a silver anchor
hooked through its upper lip,
An' I knew I was a goner
if I up and made a slip.
The boat turned round in circles,
and the water turned to foam,
The boat was rockin' dang'rously,
I wished I'd stayed at home.
Me mates were screamin' "hold him, Jack!
Don't let 'im get away!"
While the fishin' reel was shreikin'
as we roared around the bay.
Me 'ands were raw and bleedin',
an' me back was broke in two,
While that bass near went crazy
draggin' boat and gear and crew.
Then daylight turned to darkness
over Calabogie Lake.
I was faintin' from exhaustion,
had more than I could take.
Let's cut the line I pleaded,
'an let the blighter go!
But me mates yelled in derision,
"Jack, give it one more go!"
So, Frank, I gotta tell ya,
though it goes against the grain,
That bass ain't in Calabogie,
so don't go there again.
It'll break your heart, I warn yer,
an' fill yer full of gall,
That yer bass from Calabogie
is mounted on me wall.
