Title: It's a Lice Filled Frankenstein Fish

(chorus)

It's Lice filled Frankenstein Fish
A fillet not fit for a dish
Let's work hard to make them all gone
before the Sockeye begin their next spawn

1

Well they got them big pens in the coves
where they fatten their fish in big droves
They feed them with pellets and they grow great big lice
the Wild Fish don't think these fish Ghettos are nice!

(chorus)

2

Well they're not the same species you see
and they fill up the chuck with their poop and their pee
They're genetically weak and they foul up the shore
with feces, diseases and their hormones and more

(chorus)

3

So from Ottawa down through Bee Cee
please help the wild salmon swim free
Take all the prisons and pens in the sound
put them ashore in tanks on high ground

(final chorus)

AND...here's reminder of what the song sounds like (in case you forgot?) The original lyrics can be found in this e-mail as well.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5K2OZUgGqkw

Hope you can use it

Andy Mathisen in Smithers

BABINE SONG
http://www.allvoices.com/contributed-news/5721458-babine-song-for-the-sockeye
1

at sockeye creek
the first salmon dart
to escape the dog who
disturbs them in the
shallows

black
hooked snouts
& river
torn
fins
find ecstacy
mad
red riot
in rocky pools

Indians get to net
them early
flat-bottomed boats
lay long
offshore

old women gut them
swift knowing kinives
brown river banks busy

chop....chop...the head
one long ripped belly equals
guts drifting
down
river

Dick Alex's kids heap
pink roe into blue
ice cream buckets

Gulls scream and
turn a sexless sun
excited

the rich sweet smell
of blood

2

Clarny don't talk much &
makes a good fishing partner
I look at his face caught
in evening sun
as we troll Char Bay

his weathered face
tells no age

I hook a big one
& we both lean over
the side look down
at the 5lb char shining
dull gold beneath us

turning circles
twenty feet below
it flashes
in the dying
light

I play the life
out of him
with line

tension
struggles
tugs at
hands

raindows rise
around us as we
head toward the
landing

the village
broken little teeth
on jaws
of blue
& green

the north
can swallow
you

the buildings
melting into earth
the bones
of last year's sockeye
grinning white in silt
beside the river
silent

3

aspen
shiver
whisper a season's return
as campertrucks
& winnabagoes hump
homeward
to another border

dark
beneath the bow
sockeye blink and
rumble dumb into
oblivion
& rot

I return
like an apostle
to the shore
& gut my fish

I hear
a tune
to an old
song

it has
no words


(Topley Landing, Babine Lake, B.C. 1978)

By Andy Mathisen

from Two Island Poets- Caitlin Press, Vancouver, 1979