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While sitting alone on a fine August day,
My thoughts were of going away;
To leave the home that I loved so well,
In search of better pay.
As propaganda is filling the waves,
One more time we are promised again;
That when the oil boom deal is signed,
There'll be work for all women and men.
Promises, promises, easily made,
Are not so easily kept;
So many in Newfoundland didn't receive,
And that is the reason they left.
Majority thinks that it's all fun and games,
To travel the land of the free;
But if you asked anyone who moved away,
Back home is where they want to be.
They work all year long for hours on end,
With neither a sign or a groan;
Most of the money it buys food and rent,
The rest buys a plane ticket home.
So Newfs in Toronto and Fort McMurray,
Victoria and Calgary;
Would rather be living back in Newfoundland,
Than roaming the land of the free.
So why do we have to understand,
Before it's too late when we're old;
That the true value of Newfoundland,
Is more precious than silver and gold.
