The fisherman are pitching pennies in the sand beside the sea
And the sunrise hits their oilskin boots, their painted boats and me
And they seem to know the ocean like a man knows a woman
She makes him wait around for half the morning for the tide to turn
Pull on the ropes, seine haul fisherman
Never catches more than he knows he can sell in a day
Pull in the nets, seine haul fisherman
Day's for work, night's the time to go dancing
They're drinking beer and laughing and squinting at the sun
Waiting for the gulls to tell them when the fish will come
Their faces brown and weathered from all the nets they've run
They've learned to wait, they always know that the tide will turn
Pull on the ropes, seine haul fisherman
Never catches more than he knows he can sell in a day
Pull in the nets, seine haul fisherman
Day's for work, night's the time to go dancing
Now way out on the ocean the big ships hunt for whales
And the Japanese have caught so many now they hunt for snails
But my fisherman's not greedy he seems content to live
With the sun and the sand and a net full of fishes when the tide turns
Pull on the ropes, seine haul fisherman
Never catches more than he knows he can sell in a day
Pull in the nets, seine haul fisherman
Day's for work, night's the time to go dancing
Oh, yes pull on the ropes, seine haul fisherman
Never catches more than he knows he can sell in a day
Oh, and pull in the nets, seine haul fisherman
Day's for work, night's the time to go dancing
Writer(s): Carly E. Simon
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