The Newfie Sheik

I got tired of fishin' on the Grand Banks,
Tired of livin' off the dole;
Bored of the Newfie winters,
Where the weather gets blistering cold.
So I went up to Toronto,
Like most Newfies do;
I got me a job in a factory,
But I miss my fish and brewis.

Well, I got me a call from my brother,
Said, boy, hold onto your pants;
We struck oil on our land, you know,
And it's bigger then Come By Chance.
So I got me an airplane ticket,
One way headed straight back east;
Yeah, I went back home to the oil we own,
And became the Newfie Sheik.

I got a yacht in St. John's harbour,
And a limo like Joey, too;
All I'm missin' is a harem,
And I'm gonna get me one of them, too.
My maid she does the cleaning,
And she brings my Newfie screech;
Well, son of a gun, I struck it rich,
Yeah, I'm the Newfie Sheik.

Well, they took me up to Ottawa,
And they sure are some very strange folks;
They put me up in a royal suite,
But I didn't hear one Newfie joke.
Well, they all got to pattin' me on the back,
And they all wanna shake my hand;
But I got the oil - it's under my soil,
And it's staying in Newfoundland

See more songs by A. Frank Willis.

From the Dictionary Of Newfoundland English:
Brewis - sea-biscuit or 'hard tack' soaked in water and then boiled; such a dish cooked with salt cod and fat pork.

The Newfie Sheik

####.... Larry Coad and Ted Doyle. Arranged by A. Frank Willis (Over The Years ©1992 SOCAN. All rights reserved) ....####