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A grade seven girl so young and so free,
A poem she'd written to hand in to me;
I can still see her eyes as she passed in her words,
I knew right away that they had to be heard.
She said, I'd like to be back when John Cabot found,
The island of Newfoundland and its fishing ground;
To discover new land and to find new places,
To make new friends of all different races.
I would like to be back in the good old days,
To see the old people and live by their ways;
To see them survive and to work day to day,
I'd watch them go to bed, kneel down and pray.
I would like to be back to see the great war,
And to understand just what they fought for;
To stop them from hating and all drop their guns,
No blood be taken and all live as one.
I would like to be back in the good old days,
To see the old people and live by their ways;
To see them survive and to work day to day,
I'd watch them go to bed, kneel down and pray.
Then I'd like to be back in Nineteen O four,
That's when my dear old grandmother to the world she was born;
Well, I'd join with her crying and her family and her ways,
And we'd all live together back in the good old days.
I would like to be back in the good old days,
To see the old people and live by their ways;
To see them survive and to work day to day,
I'd watch them go to bed, kneel down and pray.
