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

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

Throwing them back to the ocean

Back to the living once more

Throwing them back to the ocean

Back to the living once more