This sea took with it everything our fair instrumental people needed to see
A storm seriously a-brewing, knowing, just knowing that our fishermen had worked their every worth to the bone of their being
“Ship-to-shore… bring it on home!!”
These fish were never so very deliciously pressed against our locked lips
When a nine-to-five lends itself to a mid-evening dive-on-in
A din with seriously serendipitous words – our knives and forks our only precariously drenched swords
When a walk by our hundredth shoreline gets to rewind us right back to a childhood time best left almost but not quite forgotten
To jog the memory entirely
Roll it up in old scripture, let the taste breathe
Fish n’ chips supreme

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