We live by the sea where Daddy fishes each day
Mommy packs lunch then we walk him to the bay.
His boat is a small one; he says it's a she,
so he named her “Darling” after Mommy and me.

Daddy and Darling catch lots of fish.
He learned from Granddaddy some tricks that don't miss.
“You go where the plants and the little fish play,
then you wait for the big fish, ‘cause that's where they stay.
Another tried-and-true from my bag of fish tricks
is to go where the warm and the cold water mix.
You throw one hook, then a hundred, or two hundred, or three!
That's how you catch lots of fish from the sea.”

And that's what Daddy's done for all of his life.
He says it's a way to feed his daughter and wife.
At night he comes home and says, “Make a wish!”
Then I say, “Please put a fish in my dish!”

He walks to the table, sets down his cooler,
I roll out newspaper, Mommy gets the ruler.
He says, “I have one fish. No, two fish. No, three!
A small one for Baby, a big one for Mommy, and the biggest one for me.”

Mommy starts cooking. Daddy takes a bath.
I set the table with three place mats.
He walks to the kitchen, gives me a wink,
then kisses Mommy while she works at the sink.

Oh, I feel happy ‘cause I'll soon get my wish!
Mommy comes to our table with the skillet of fish.
She serves the small one, the big one, and the biggest one, too.
She says thanks to Daddy; he says, “No, honey, thank you.”

After dinner, Mommy rests as I wash the dishes.
We make such a mess eating Daddy's fishes!
We each brush our teeth and lie down in our bed.
On Daddy's strong chest I lay my head.
He takes a deep breath to speak to the world:
“Goodnight all you fishes, my sweet wife, my little girl.”

That was pure happiness as far as I knew.
Every night there were three of us, by day just two.
The fish lived in the sea and we lived on the land
and every dinner was fish that Daddy caught by hand.