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'Twas in eighteen eighty-one when the railway first began,
Giving service right across the isle of Newfoundland;
Construction moved so slowly as they built this narrow rail,
But the story of the Bullet is an interesting tale.
Mem'ries of the Newfie Bullet, rolling slowly down the line,
Mem'ries of the Newfie Bullet, etched forever on my mind.
On her maiden voyage now, June of eighteen ninety-eight,
From St. John's she started out with passengers and freight;
As she went chugging down the line, the trip was a success,
Twenty-seven hours later she rolled into Port aux Basques.
Mem'ries of the Newfie Bullet, rolling slowly down the line,
Mem'ries of the Newfie Bullet, etched forever on my mind.
Meals served in the dining car were all of the highest class,
Tables dressed in snow white cloths, real china and real glass;
Conductors, porters, engineers, the cooks and stewards, too,
Tried their very best to make it an experience for you.
Mem'ries of the Newfie Bullet, rolling slowly down the line,
Mem'ries of the Newfie Bullet, etched forever on my mind.
Now those who rode the Bullet, they could view the scenery,
Travelling across this isle was simple luxury;
And folks admired the Bullet now, when she was in her prime,
You could set your watch for she was always right on time.
Mem'ries of the Newfie Bullet, rolling slowly down the line,
Mem'ries of the Newfie Bullet, etched forever on my mind.
There's few that know the Caribou was her official name,
Most will fondly think of her as the Newfie Bullet train;
You know she served this province for one hundred seven years,
Now our memories of the Bullet bring a few nostalgic tears.
Mem'ries of the Newfie Bullet, rolling slowly down the line,
Mem'ries of the Newfie Bullet, etched forever on my mind.
