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I stood upon her fields of green that slope down to the ocean,
And lifted up my eyes to the heavens high above,
Givin' thanks to God for such a pure and precious homeland,
This North Atlantic lady that I love.
For in summer she's so pretty in her dress of green,
And in the fall the many colors of her gown are seen;
Her robes of white in winter leave no ifs or buts or maybe,
There's no one like our North Atlantic lady.
She has stood and watched her coastal sons sail out to make a living,
And some would never come back to their birthplace anymore;
The signs that told her they had made their last voyage on the ocean,
Was wreckage washed up on her ageless shore.
She's withstood the march of time this proud and very lovely lady,
And why she's loved so dearly isn't hard to understand;
She questions not her children in their everyday endeavors,
Our North Atlantic lady, Newfoundland.
She's our North Atlantic lady, Newfoundland.
