We Fish For Dreams

from Hang Me Out to Dry by Trip McCool

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lyrics

My Grand-dad worked this very boat
When he was just a lad
Rowed these ancient waters, his fists turned ironclad
He wore the Aran sweater that his Mammy knit for him
The family knots and patterns
Twisted deep within

His son tore down those crimson sails
Once proud on Galway Bay
An outboard engine takes a man
To Cod banks far away
Then factory ships they raped the sea
Stole every feckin’ fin
Left nothing but a diesel slick and a Cheshire grin

Cast a line on the water
Sail a boat on the sea
After all, sons and daughters
We fish for life, We fish for dreams

I caulked I chinked this Hooker boat
I sewed these crimson sails
I take her out on Galway Bay
To race the Minke Whales
I swear I leave those fish alone
But still I cast my net
I haul the plastic from the bay
There’s hope for Galway yet

credits

from Hang Me Out to Dry, released February 17, 2020

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Trip McCool Holly Springs, North Carolina

I put on the guitar and sing as if my ancestors were listening; and I truly believe they are so I better not disappoint them. Trip is the part of my soul that never forgot the sacrifices they made. My people rose up from the Irish mud to make a better life for me. I write songs for them, for my people, the immigrants, the poor, the salt of the earth. It's all true, even the lies. ... more

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