Verse 1

Before the sun lifts its copper rim

He laces his boots while the fields are dim

Rod in his hand, tackle packed just right

He follows the river into the light

Pre-Chorus

Ten long kilometers, bend after bend

A little fish flashes, then slips again

He smiles at the water and casts once more

That big old pike is still out there

Chorus

He’s walking the river, mile after mile

With the dawn on his face and a stubborn smile

Little ones dart away, but he won’t turn around

He’s waiting for the strike that will shake the ground

One day those teeth will break the blue

And the river will give him the catch he’s dreamed through

Till then he keeps casting, steady and true