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Come all ye Newfoundlanders, come listen unto me,
I am a good old lumberjack as you may plainly see;
On the fourteenth of August I left my native home,
To board the Bonavista Branch to Deer Lake I did go.
I wasn't long in Deer Lake when a card was passed to me,
They signed me up to Ninety-five with not a decent tree;
The wood was bad, the walk was long, 'twould almost break your heart,
The scaler he would come and say the wood was much too sharp.
Herb Porter is our skipper, with him we did go 'way,
He is a good old lumberjack raised up in Trinity Bay;
Herb Baker is some foreman as you may understand,
No bigger sport can be found on the shores of Newfoundland.
But Herbie drinks a lot, I think it does him good,
He sure can put the saws in shape for tumbling down the wood;
Three cord a day they say he cuts but what's the good of that,
There's only one booze for him and he's got to return back.
The next is our good cook, boys, Bob Bennett is his name,
His equals can't be found with the Company so they claim;
He's pleasant all through the day, he'll greet you with a smile,
We'll stay and cut the bad wood just to get our grub in style.
Here's luck to good old Ben, boys, I'll wish him luck that's good,
And when I eats from him again, I'll be cutting better wood;
The next is our good cook-aids, they're better than the best,
One hails from the east coast and the other from the west.
'Twould do you good to see them in the cook-house fly about,
At five o'clock in the morning saying, "All hands must heave out!"
At six o'clock is breakfast time, we'll get an early start,
To hear those bucksaws ringing from daylight until dark.
I think that some old men here, I think they're very good,
But I guess it's on the bunk they cut most of their wood;
Now to conclude and finish I hope you'll like our work,
The composer is Mke Brennan and the writer Sebastian Burke.