Words & Music By
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Nick Granato
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He once earned a living fishing these waters,
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Out in the gulf, running the bay,
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He remembers a time when the catch was abundant,
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He says too many people have scared them away,
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His face was all wrinkled and browned from the weather,
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His hands were all calloused from years on the sea,
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By his bench on the pier all the tourists passed by him,
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Unaware this old man had made all this to be¡¦
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He¡¯s just an old cracker, who grew up on the island,
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His grandfather¡¯s grandpa, drove the first pilings,
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With a pioneer¡¯s spirit, that runs in his blood
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An original native¡¦ Florida¡¯s son
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He spoke of a time when life was quite different,
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Long before money and greed had its way,
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A place you could tell God had touched with his fingers,
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Where you showed respect for the things He¡¯d made
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He said nowadays we¡¯re surrounded by concrete,
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High rises stretching to worship the sun,
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He said they¡¯re nothing to me
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but just graves on the beaches,
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Stones marking the places, where paradise was¡¦
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He¡¯s just an old cracker, who grew up on the island,
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His grandfather¡¯s, grandpa, drove the first pilings,
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Oh the things that he¡¯s witnessed,
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all the changing he¡¯s done.
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An original legend¡¦ Florida¡¯s son,
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Now He morns for what it¡¯s become¡¦ Florida¡¯s son,
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And the future sets in what was¡¦ Florida¡¯s son¡¦
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¨Ï 2001 Song Harbor Music/BMI
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Florida's Son
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| Nick Granato |
