it s another maryport springtime the blossom is fresh on the trees we open our hatch to a half empty catch brought home on a half empty breeze it s hardly surprising so little s been caught there s a fleet of dutch beamers way off on the port the spanish the french aye they re still around as together we harvest the same barren ground in another maryport springtime in another maryport springtime it s another maryport summer the children they swim in the dock and out on the strand by the long golden sand we sit and we stare at the clock our quota s been cut now almost to nought they ve sold all the fish before they ve been caught they turn a deaf ear to our cries for help if you can t catch the cod change tack for the kelp in another maryport summer in another maryport summer it s another maryport autumn with the mist drifting in on the neap with the state of the pound we re all run aground our hopes lie like nets in a heap but i can remember a far better time with such a rich harvest way out on the brine though boats still go out come sun snow or rain we fear that these good times will not come again  in another maryport autumn in another maryport autumn it s another maryport winter my anger is hard now to hide these long wasted years how they drive us to tears as we wait for a turn in the tide but hope spring s eternal that s what they say and as gulls circle round at the end of the dat they swoop and they dive as in search for the sun let us pray there s still hope while the ellen still runs in another maryport winter in another maryport winter as we wait for a turn in the tide