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· Relapsed Speyaholic
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Discussion Starter · #1 ·

His hands are gloved and restless
His waders have almost dried
And she'd give half of Texas
But at least she knows she tried
She knows his love's waiting at the river
And she knows he's gonna head
Well, it ain't no woman, flesh and blood
It's that damned old Steelhead

Well, it's speyrods and spools
It's runs and pools
It's the growl of a Hardy reel
It's the white in the skunk
The vest in the trunk
The taste of a convenience store meal
It's Wheatley flyboxes, oil-skin hats
It's bankside naps
It's hunks of tippet, feathers and thread
It's the sun and the rain
And the joy and the pain
And they call the thing Steelhead

She does her best to hold him
When the leaves turn each Fall
But his need for it controls him
And her back's against the wall
And it's "So long dear, I'll see you"
When it's time to rise from bed
You know the lady wants her husband
Like he wants his Steelhead


It'll drive a fisherman crazy
It'll drive a man insane
And he'll sell off everything he owns
Just to pay to play the game
And a broken home and some shooting heads
Is all he'll have to show
For all the years that he spent chasin'
This dream they call Steelhead


It's stuck deep in his blood
Like boots in the mud
And they call the thing Steelhead
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