#00146
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We have everything packed from tobacco to dishes,
Rubber boot patches and twine for the trawls;
We're Labrador bound, boys, we're gone for the summer,
You won't see our faces till late in the fall.
And that's the way that it was, the old man sits dreaming,
Touched by the progress just outside the door;
There's a smile on his old face when summer comes calling,
And his mind takes him back to the Labrador shore.
It's a beautiful day in the year forty-seven,
The spray from the bow touched the smile on his face;
She's a wonderful sound, boys, that old Coaker engine,
As she echoes her sound off cliffs on the bay.
And that's the way that it was, the old man sits dreaming,
Touched by the progress just outside the door;
There's a smile on his old face when summer comes calling,
And his mind takes him back to the Labrador shore.
She's down to the gunnels, he stands at the tiller,
And guides her so gently to the rocks up ahead;
Where the flakes are all covered with salt fish a-drying,
To the bark of his old dog and the call of his kids.
And that's the way that it was, the old man sits dreaming,
Touched by the progress just outside the door;
There's a smile on his old face when summer comes calling,
And his mind takes him back to the Labrador shore.
Turn down the TV your grandfather's dreaming,
I know where he's at by his smile that's for sure;
He's a long ways away, a young man in summer,
Fishing for cod on the Labrador shore.
And that's the way that it was, the old man sits dreaming,
Touched by the progress just outside the door;
There's a smile on his old face when summer comes calling,
And his mind takes him back to the Labrador shore.