Moon Man Fishes

Well some folk say when the net lies long
And the midnight hour is ripe;
The moon man fishes for some old song
That fell from a sailor's pipe

And some folk say that he fishes the bars
Down where the dead ships lie
Looking for lost little baby stars
That slid from the slippery sky

And the waves roll out and the waves roll in
And the nodding night wind blows
But why the moon man fishes the sea
Only the moon man knows

Zoon, zoon, net of the moon
Rides on the wrinkling sea;
Bright is the fret and shining wet
Fashioned of moonbeams three

Fashioned of moonbeams three

And some folk say when the great net gleams
And the waves are dusky blue
The moon man fishes for two little dreams
He lost when the world was new

And some folk say in the late night hours
While the long fin-shadows slide
The moon man fishes for cold sea flowers
Under the tumbling tide

And the waves roll out and the waves roll in
And the gray gulls dip and doze
But why the moon man fishes the sea
Only the moon man knows

Zoon, zoon, cuddle and croon--
Over the crinkling sea
The moon man flings him a silvered net
Fashioned of moonbeams three

Fashioned of moonbeams three
Fashioned of moonbeams three

And some folk say while the salt sea foams
And the silver net lines snare
The moon man fishes for carven combs
That float from the mermaids' hair

And the waves roll out and the waves roll in
And the nodding night wind blows
But why the moon man fishes the sea
Only the moon man knows

Only the moon man knows