I got a friend named Alaska Joe
We go fishin’ every day or so
A couple of kids you probably don’t know
Me and Alaska Joe
Bait in the bucket, tackle and pole
Come hell or high water we go
We roll on our stingrays we do
Down to our fishin’ hole
It’s a contest of who's the fastest—who plunks their line in first
The ride always makes us thirsty—for Pepsi and liverwurst
But fritos are really neato and so are burritos too
Followed by a round of snickers
Then it’s time for settlin’ back to do what fisher dudes do
Watchin’ the river run away—under the Arctic Sun
Losin’ track of everything . . . gettin’ the fishin’ done
A whistle, a gunshot, a wild reminder
Brings things back into view
Mister wind’s kickin’ up good
The clouds are startin’ to spew
When the referee sky says . . . surrender boys
Whether we like it or not
It’s back on our bikes we go peddlin’ home
With whatever we’ve caught at our spot
I got a friend named Alaska Joe
We go fishin’ every day or so
A couple of kids you probably don’t know
That’s . . . Me and Alaska Joe