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They're outport people with outport ways,
But there's no where to use them and now it's too late;
And they curse on the one who uttered the phrase,
Resettlement now while resettlement pays.
He sits on the dock and he looks 'cross the bay,
And watches his memories as they pass on the waves;
And he wonders what cards fate might have dealt,
It he told those officials to go straight to hell.
'Cause you can't take a man from the soil where he grew,
Lest you know how to solace his mind when you do;
And for God's sake don't say how much greener's the grass,
'Cause those uprooted people start to weather too fast.
You can launch a house easy and tow it away,
But the home doesn't move, it continues to stay;
And the dollars you make sure they'll keep you alive,
But they won't soothe the heart and they can't ease the mind.
He sits on the plank and the memories roll,
The spring sun is shining there's a lop in the cove;
And the shoreline is dotted with lobster pot buoys,
But his boat's full of weeds and there's tears in his eyes.
Don't take a man from the life that he knows,
And tear up his roots and expect him to grow;
'Cause if he's unwillingly forced to decide,
He'll move without leaving and never arrive.
Don't take a man from the life that he knows,
And tear up his roots and expect him to grow;
And for God's sake don't say how much greener's the grass,
'Cause those uprooted people start to weather too fast.
