Broke-back Mellon, he's so sad. . . Thinks his fishin' good buddy's gone bad. It's only a guess, but I'm surmisin' Could be a split on the horizon. Broke-back Mellon's good with his words. . . But driving to Dayton is for the birds. Mellonhead can talk a good story. His fishing tales are full of glory. He throws a cast-net like a one-armed bandit. . . If there's bait to be netted, he'll never land it. Cause with a flick of his wrist it's "bye bye net!" If he gets his way, we'll all be in debt. Landing big Cats is not his fortay. . . Because all of his knots begin to fray. He casts his bait into a tree And I fall off my chair as I laugh with glee. If you're fishing with Bryan you'd best be wary. . . 'Cause the distance you'll go, his weight you will carry. He has to stop and take a breath. Rearrange. . . take another step. "The yellow bag of death" he calls his load. . . Just stop your whining, you big ole toad! If you're in a boat, for God's sake - don't let him steer. . . Or for your safety, you will fear. 'Cause pulling up anchor is no simple feat. He'll pull you under without leaving his seat. So if you get a call from H2O. . . Consider the risks before you go. Make peace with your God, your rod, and your women Before you go fishing with a guy named Mellon.