The fisherman Are pitching pennies In the sand Beside the sea The sunrise hits their oilskin boots And their painted boats And me 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 on the ropes, 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 on the ropes, Seine haul fisherman Day's for work. Night's the time to go dancing Way out on the ocean The big ships Hunt for whales The Japanese Have caught so many That now They hunt for snails My fisherman's not greedy He seems content to live With the sun and the sand And a net full of fish when the tide turns Pull on the ropes Seine haul fisherman Never catches More than he knows He can sell in a day Pull on the ropes Seine haul fisherman Day's for work Night's the time to go dancing Pull on the ropes Seine haul fisherman Never catches More than he knows He can sell in a day Pull on the ropes Seine haul fisherman Day's for work Night's the time To go dancing