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September Slump by FogBank Fiddler | Neume
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September Slump
FogBank Fiddler
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September Slump
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The September Slump (A Country Song) (Verse 1) Out where the lobster traps sink in the deep, September rolls in, and it’s makin’ me weep. The tides are all heavy, the catch is pure dread, Them shedder bitch crabs got me losin’ my head. My boat’s burnin’ fuel, costs more than my soul, Each gallon’s a dagger, diggin’ deep in my goal. Bait prices are climbin’, they’re bleedin’ me dry, This September slump’s got me prayin’ to the sky. (Chorus) Oh, the September slump, it’s a fisherman’s hell, No lobsters in sight, just a broke, empty shell. Shedder bitch crabs tear my bait to the floor, In the September slump, I can’t take much more. (Verse 2) Every trap’s a bust, just claws and no gain, Them shedder bitch crabs bring nothin’ but pain. Fuel’s costin’ a fortune, can’t keep her afloat, And Janet Mills’ laws got my neck in a choke. She’s pilin’ on rules from her Augusta throne, Makin’ life for us fishermen hard as a stone. Bait’s worth more than lobster, fuel’s stealin’ my fight, This September slump’s keepin’ me up every night. (Chorus) Oh, the September slump, it’s a fisherman’s hell, No lobsters in sight, just a broke, empty shell. Shedder bitch crabs tear my bait to the floor, In the September slump, I can’t take much more. (Bridge) I’m dreamin’ of October, when the waters might turn, When lobsters come crawlin’, and these crabs finally burn. But Mills keeps on taxin’, her rules bind my hands, This fisherman’s heart’s sinkin’ deep in the sands. (Chorus) Oh, the September slump, it’s a fisherman’s hell, No lobsters in sight, just a broke, empty shell. Shedder bitch crabs tear my bait to the floor, In the September slump, I can’t take much more. (Outro) So here’s to the struggle, to the traps that don’t pay, To shedder bitch crabs and the dreams they slay. I’ll fight through this slump, though my pockets are thin, In the September slump, I’ll still rise to begin.
Lyrics
Out where the lobster traps sink in the deep,
September rolls in, and it’s makin’ me weep.
The tides are all heavy, the catch is pure dread,
Them shedder bitch crabs got me losin’ my head.
My boat’s burnin’ fuel, costs more than my soul,
Each gallon’s a dagger, diggin’ deep in my goal.
Bait prices are climbin’, they’re bleedin’ me dry,
This September slump’s got me prayin’ to the sky.
Oh, the September slump, it’s a fisherman’s hell,
No lobsters in sight, just a broke, empty shell.
Shedder bitch crabs tear my bait to the floor,
In the September slump, I can’t take much more.
Every trap’s a bust, just claws and no gain,
Them shedder bitch crabs bring nothin’ but pain.
Fuel’s costin’ a fortune, can’t keep her afloat,
And Janet Mills’ laws got my neck in a choke.
She’s pilin’ on rules from her Augusta throne,
Makin’ life for us fishermen hard as a stone.
Bait’s worth more than lobster, fuel’s stealin’ my fight,
This September slump’s keepin’ me up every night.
Oh, the September slump, it’s a fisherman’s hell,
No lobsters in sight, just a broke, empty shell.
Shedder bitch crabs tear my bait to the floor,
In the September slump, I can’t take much more.
I’m dreamin’ of October, when the waters might turn,
When lobsters come crawlin’, and these crabs finally burn.
But Mills keeps on taxin’, her rules bind my hands,
This fisherman’s heart’s sinkin’ deep in the sands.
Oh, the September slump, it’s a fisherman’s hell,
No lobsters in sight, just a broke, empty shell.
Shedder bitch crabs tear my bait to the floor,
In the September slump, I can’t take much more.
So here’s to the struggle, to the traps that don’t pay,
To shedder bitch crabs and the dreams they slay.
I’ll fight through this slump, though my pockets are thin,
In the September slump, I’ll still rise to begin.
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