#01999
Island View (Neal O'Leary)

Sailing in and out the bay,
Just trying to see through the haze;
There's hay on the land,
And there's work to be done.
Watching little kids at play,
Throwing beach rocks in the middle of the day;
I wonder if the future will drive them all away.

Sailing along the island shore,
She's got a beauty of her own;
The emerald green land that she has,
Can touch the hearts of one.
The force of the waves,
How they smash against the rocks;
And there are small boats in the harbours,
And they're guarded by the docks.

On the wharf there is a shack,
Held up mainly by an old tin stack,
Rusted hinges on the doors and holes all around.
Skipper John he would sit and talk
About the good old times down by the dock;
They would never wonder about the clock,
Or if it's time to go home.

Sailing along the island shore,
She's got a beauty of her own;
The emerald green land that she has,
Can touch the hearts of one.
The force of the waves,
How they smash against the rocks;
And there are small boats in the harbours,
And they're guarded by the docks.

Look at all the boats on shore,
I wonder if they'll sail any more.
Rot, just sitting in old paint on the ground.
Sea gulls flying in the sky,
And cod fish on the flake to dry;
Putt, putt - a boat passed by,
With the scent of salt in the air.

Sailing along the island shore,
She's got a beauty of her own;
The emerald green land that she has,
Can touch the hearts of one.
The force of the waves,
How they smash against the rocks;
And there are small boats in the harbours,
And they're guarded by the docks.

####.... Neal O'Leary of Western Bay, NL ....####

Recorded by Neal O'Leary (While I Was Gone, 2004).

See more songs by Neal O'Leary.

From the Dictionary of Newfoundland English:
Flake - platform built on poles and spread with boughs for drying cod-fish on the foreshore.


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