ALL YOU CAN EAT
© Greg Keeler 1992

Neoprene Waders
(to Green Sleeves)

Alas, my love, it might seem obscene
When I slip into my Neoprenes
'Cause when I wear them out to the stream,
They fit like a giant condom.
Neoprenes are my one desire.
They fit so snug and they keep me dryer
Than my old chest waders or stocking feet,
And they make me feel sexy, my Neoprenes.

When I grab my rod and head for the holes,
To keep from slipping I wear my felt soles.
If you think that fishing sounds quite obscene,
Just wait till I peel on my Neoprenes.
Neoprenes are my one desire
'Cause I'm safe and snug in the bog and mire.
Though they make me sweaty, I'm always ready
To sheathe my body in Neoprene.

Though the river is fertile with fish and beaver,
I practice safe fishing so the stream won't conceive
Of a way to dunk me or soak my jeans.
Yes' I peel on my form-fitting Neoprenes.
Neoprenes are my one desire.
They set my soul and my loins on fire.
Fishing dry flies to riffles or nymphs to seams,
I stand erect in my Neoprenes.