Fisherman's boy with a bucket of water
Goes walking each day on the shore
Looking in tide-pools and crannies
For fish that were stranded
Sure-handed he'd gather them all
Throwing them back to the ocean
Back to the living once more

Soon he was throwing the nets like his father
And hauling them back to the shore
Taking the time to be careful and sort the unneeded
From those he would store in the hold
Throwing them back to the ocean
Back to the living once more

He went down in a storm near the rocks of Point Cleary
They searched 'til the night drove them home
But in the morning they found him, alive and unbattered
Where shattered wood littered the stones
He'd been thrown back from the ocean
Back to the living once more

Fisherman's boy with a son and a daughter
Goes walking each day on the shore
Looking in tide-pools and crannies
For fish that were stranded
Sure-handed they gathered them all
Throwing them back to the ocean
Back to the living once more