Those Fishes Don't Know

We will be doing some fishing

In the summer is when we go

Those poor little fishes

Don't know what we know

We will hook them in the mouth

As far as it will go

Those poor little fishes

Bubbles is what they'll blow

When we get back to camp

We will gather all the fish

Gut them with a knife

And put them on a dish

You would not want to be

A helpless little fish

Not knowing what comes next

As you say your last little wish