Lyrics

Me and Frankie, we grew up as the best of friends
His father was a fisherman, who liked to fight with his bare hands
Down by the stockfish flakes we were looking at the sea
dreamin' bout places to go, we were young, bold and free

All those Friday nights, bottles of whiskey and blue moon light
two young fools, two friends - stumbling home again
and then Saturday, castaways getting out to play
Sunday mornings make amends, those golden days

Me and Frankie, like a magpie and a bear
I could get at anyone, and Frankie never passed a dare
In the sunset, we were glancing far ahead
But what Frankie saw, don't remember if he ever said

All those Friday nights, bottles of whiskey and blue moon light
two young fools, two friends - stumbling home again
and then Saturday, castaways getting out to play
Sunday mornings make amends, those golden days

Cheers to you and the good old days, memory lane aint an easy path
The stockfish flakes and the golden days, they wont be coming back

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