“That Ol’ Shrimp Boat”
🎧 Speakers On: “That Ol’ Shrimp Boat”
LYRICS
That Old Shrimp Boat, she don’t hum like she used to,
Her nets hang quiet, her deck gone bare.
She once danced with the tide like a fiddler’s tune,
Now she’s docked in silence, salt in the air.
That Old Shrimp Boat, I watched her glide,
Along the shore on a summer’s day.
With gulls in tow and the sun just right,
She’d haul in dreams from that Lowcountry Bay.
We’d sit on porches, hush our talk,
Just to hear her engine’s low, proud moan.
She was rhythm, she was ritual, she was work and walk,
A Southern heartbeat carved in bone.
That Old Shrimp Boat, a dying breed,
Like stories whispered through Spanish moss.
We wonder why the nets don’t feed,
And what we’ve gained in what we’ve lost.
What’s it like to helm her wheel,
To mend her nets with weathered hands?
To tie the knots that time can’t steal,
And read the stars like ancient plans?
That Old Shrimp Boat taught her crew
To rise with dawn and chase the tide.
To know the shrimp by scent and hue,
To live where grit and grace collide.
She carried tales in every plank,
Of storms survived and jokes well-told.
Of fathers, sons, and diesel tanks,
And shrimp worth more than minted gold.
That Old Shrimp Boat, we’ll miss her so,
Her silhouette against the pink-lit sea.
She’s part of who we are, you know,
A Southern story, wild and free.
So if you’ve got a tale to tell,
Of boats, of kin, of Lowcountry lore,
Of summer skies and salt that swells,
Of shrimp and stories we adore...
Then come on by, don’t wait too long,
We’re saving you a seat, a mic, a song.
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