WHAT THE HELL FOR?

There was a fella in a little boat,

With a fishing pole and a smile,

A businessman came walking up,

Said, "Can we talk a while?"

"What are you doing out here, son?"

"Catching supper, can't you see?"

He said, "You could be making money!"

Fisherman said, "Why me?"

"Get yourself a bigger boat,

Catch a couple hundred more!

Hire three men and buy some nets,

Sell your fish down at the store!"

"Then what?" the fisherman asked.

"Build a fleet and hire a crew!

Get an office and a secretary,

Have somebody work for you!"

"Then what?"

"You'll need yourself an accountant,

A lawyer and a business plan!"

He said, "Hold on there, mister,

I ain't even caught my dinner, man!"

**WHAT THE HELL FOR?**

I'm just trying to catch a fish!

You got me buying forty boats,

And I ain't even made a wish!

You want me climbing up a ladder,

I ain't looking for another floor!

I got one pole, two worms, three kids—

WHAT THE HELL FOR?

"You'll need insurance on your workers,

And insurance on your boat!

A permit for your fishing hooks,

And a license for your float!

You'll need meetings every Monday,

A consultant twice a week,

Somebody to improve morale

When your employees start to freak!"

"Then what?"

"Open fifty locations!

Put your picture on a sign!

Build a global fishing empire,

Make your company a gold mine!"

"Then what?"

"Sell some shares! Go worldwide!

Put your logo on a hat!"

Fisherman said, "If I wanted that much trouble,

I'd have bought another cat!"

"You'll own yourself a mansion,

With a swimming pool out back!

A car that costs a hundred grand,

And a chauffeur dressed in black!

You'll have six phones, four assistants,

And a yacht the size of France!"

Fisherman said, "With all that money,

Will I still afford my pants?"

"Of course! You'll be a millionaire!

You'll have everything you need!"

He said, "Except a little common sense,

And a cure for all that greed!"

We look back at all those buffalo,

And the waste we left behind,

We keep taking more than we need,

Like enough is hard to find.

Now we got bigger houses,

But nobody's ever home,

Got five hundred Facebook friends,

And still feel all alone.

A hammer ain't the devil,

And a paycheck ain't a sin,

But when everything you own owns you,

Tell me, who's the winner then?

"Now listen here, you fisherman,

You ain't understanding me!

You work your fingers to the bone,

Then retire at sixty-three!

You'll finally have your freedom!

No more meetings, no more stress!

You can sleep till seven-thirty,

Put away that business dress!

You can sit beside the water,

Watch the sunshine in the sky,

Spend your days just catching fish,

And let the whole damn world go by!"

The fisherman scratched his whiskers,

Looked that fella in the eye,

Took another bite of sandwich,

Watched a buzzard flying by.

Then he said...

**"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK I'M DOING RIGHT NOW, YOU IDIOT?**

Now I ain't against ambition,

And I ain't afraid of work,

But if money makes you miserable,

Who's the biggest freaking jerk?

We build a bigger highway,

Then complain about the cars,

Buy a telescope to find some peace,

While we're standing under stars!

We work to buy a bigger clock,

To tell us we're behind,

Spend our whole lives chasing more,

And leave the best damn things behind!

God gave us this beautiful world,

And we still ain't satisfied!

We'd sell the shade beneath a tree,

Then charge ourselves to hide!

We're trying to own tomorrow,

While today walks out the door!