#01388
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There's a little bit of country, boys,
I haven't seen for years,
It's seasoned in my memories,
And channeled in my tears;
The place where I was born and raised,
The land I long to see,
So here's a toast to Newfoundland,
Wherever I may be.
Oh, Newfoundland, dear Newfoundland,
I pray before I die,
To walk again in street and lane,
As I did in days gone by;
My friends and neighbours I love so well,
I long once more to see,
So here's a toast to Newfoundland,
Wherever I may be.
The rocks and rills along the hills,
The salt sea breezes blow,
The fishermen out in their boats,
Their spirits all aglow;
The people waiting upon the shore,
And long once more to see,
They'll give a toast to those great men,
Wherever they may be.
Where is the man who doesn't love,
The land where he was born,
Or does not think of this, his land,
Whenever he's forlorn?
I only know that I love mine,
And I long once more to see,
So here's a toast to Newfoundland,
Wherever I may be.
Oh, Newfoundland, dear Newfoundland,
I pray before I die,
To walk again in street and lane,
As I did in days gone by;
My friends and neighbours I love so well,
I long once more to see,
So here's a toast to Newfoundland,
Wherever I may be.
Oh, Newfoundland, dear Newfoundland,
I pray before I die,
To walk again in street and lane,
As I did in days gone by;
My friends and neighbours I love so well,
I long once more to see,
So here's a toast to Newfoundland,
Wherever I may be.