T'was the night before Friday, tomorrow's the day
the Good Wife and I will be flying away.
A trip to Montana! A drive down to Craig!
I wanna go fishing, Please Don't Make Me BEG!*
Our waders are folded, boots ready to stow.
The Sage rods encased and they're ready to go.
The excitement is building, I wanna leave town!
I've been dreaming of something in rainbow or brown...
It's that time of the year when the flying things hatch
and we try to toss patterns that look like they match.
Last year's hatches were epic, I caught fishes galore!
Please let me leave now, I can't wait anymore!
Sixteen hours from now, I'll be on a jet.
Twenty four after that, my boots ought to be wet.
Two days drifting and wading, the time will go fast.
Hey, hold on a minute, please? Just ONE MORE cast!
* Note that when recited with the correct Minnesotan accent, the word "beg" does indeed rhyme with "Craig." Mostly.