FISH SPEARING MAN'S PRAYER & CONFESSION

You're looking at a feller who's never prayed a lick,

But who thinks of carving decoys every time he sees a stick.

You're looking at a fish spearing man who chops holes in the ice,

Who's lost his chopper down the hole, what he said wasn't nice.

You'll often see me grinning when I spear a northern pike,

I hope it fits the DNR' s scheme or that they take a hike.

You're looking at a feller whose practiced filet and release,

I eat whatever comes from the water for my wife to keep the peace.

Now if I had my druthers I'd hike to my house on the lake,

The hole would never be iced up, I'd sing for company's sake,

I'd never lose a decoy nor a license I'd ever buy.

I'd-always smile at the DNR and make ’em wonder why.

Lord I'm not much for reading rules and regulations and such,

I sort of do what fits the day and I ain't been caught on very much.

I'd never intentionally violate the statues when the DNR was having a look,

But whatever the day brings I will do, cause I ain't read the DNR ' s latest book.

So if I'm caught I'll pay the judge and head back to the icy lake,

And hope you're not keeping too close tabs on me,

I'd like justice, no mistake.

If you're watching me Lord hearing and seeing what I do

I'd appreciate it if you'd smile on me and disregard a few.

And if the DNR man catches me, I can calm my greatest fears,

And hope he's blind and will not see my license is in grave arrears

So let the big slow fish come in, and my spear be sharp each session.

And my pickup never go thru the ice, this is my prayer and confession.

Otis W. Lael

March 12^th 2004