My fly rods are my shepherd; I shall always want more.
They maketh me sneak new ones in the house so thy wife won't notice:
They leadeth me beside still spring creeks filled will cress bugs and hungry trout.

They restoreth my soul: They leadeth me in paths of righteous fly fishing
for the sake of catching thy quarry in a gentlemanly fashion.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of conventional tackle,
I will fear no fireline, treble hooks, or bass assasins; for thou art with me;
thy fly rod and thy wading staff they comfort me.

Thou preparest a tying table before me in the presence of bait fishermen
thou anointest my head with devcon 5 mintue epoxy.
my materials runneth over.

Surely 30 inch stripers and rising trout shall follow me
all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of the palmered hackle and bucktail
forever.


Say that 4 times while swinging a cat over your head and you shall be forgiven for baitfishing.