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The Newfie Bullet it is gone
Like so many things I know,
Like the street-cars and the bulls-eye shops
And things of long ago;
Like cobblestones and schooners
With their sails against the wind,
All the things I loved since boyhood
Gently going one-by-one.
In the long and lazy summers
I remember as a boy,
I can hear once more, the whistle
Of the train against the sky; (Woo Woo)
I can see the cinders flying
As they shovelled in the coal;
And the air was filled with magic
As the Newfie Bullet rolled.
Once again the Trouters Special
Seems to haunt me through the years,
As she left the old, old station
'Mid a burst of happy cheers;
All the gang with poles and waders
Loudly singing one and all,
And the Screech was quickly opened
As the dusk began to fall.
Down the misty lane of memory
Rolls the Five O'clock Express;
Passing through the Codroy Valley
With an air of pomp and dress; (Click Click)
I can see the people waving
As she sped with gentle ease,
And the voice of the conductor
As he shouted, "Tickets, please."
It is sad to see the engines
And the train we loved so well,
Pass away in all its glory
With a final, long farewell;
It is not the service only
We will miss as time goes on,
It's a way of life we cherished
That will soon be past and gone.
In the stillness of the evening
We will hear its sound no more,
As it sped across the Island
Like the happy days of yore;
Other forms of transportation
Only take its place in vain,
For to me and thousands like me
There will always be that train.
Yes, that famous locomotive
The Newfie Bullet train.
Recorded by Michael T. Wall (Rodeo Iinternational Records, Montreal, 1975).
