Marcia Ball Follow

My grandaddy was a fisherman
Lived on the water more than the land
He could tell the seasons by the turn of the tide
I grew up right by his side
He was a proud cajun and he worked real hard
The atchafalaya basin was his front yard
I can hear him saying with a tear in his eye
This used to be paradise
This used to be paradise

Brown pelicans and sac au lait
Big salty oysters and alligators
So many fish they would jump in your boat
Throw in a line and that's all she wrote
We had a little house on high ground
Cypress trees all around
Good living, peace and quiet
This used to be paradise
This used to be paradise

Then one day the oil man came
He gave us jobs and everything changed
We still run our boats and we drag our nets
But every day we get less and less and less

I guess you can't stop the way that time goes by
But I can't think of any reason why
They had to come and take our way of life
Now we don't know if we can even survive
They took the very land our house was on
And the shrimp and the pelicans, they're just hanging on
It's a damned shame to make an old man cry
This used to be paradise
This used to be paradise
This used to be paradise
This used to be paradise

My grandaddy was a fisherman