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We left home to go away, our fortunes for to find,
And say goodbye to all our friends that we had left behind;
No turning back as work was scarce, we knew we had to go,
And make a living way out west with wives and kids in tow.
To say goodbye to all the things that we had held so dear,
Like fishing boats and pothole roads and good old Black Horse beer;
To all the lovely scenery, the finest in the land,
We knew someday the time would come when we'd leave Newfoundland.
But I'm going back someday, I hope someday I can,
And never leave the outport, St. Anthony, Newfoundland.
Big city's are so different from the town I used to know,
When you walk upon the street you're just the average Joe;
Nobody here would stop and chat or give the time of day,
They'd probably run you over if you got in the way.
Maybe it's the pace that you're the way things have to be,
But maybe it's my memory of life beside the sea;
Stage hands and fishing boats connect right out of shore,
But I dream that I can go back and travel never more.
But I'm going back someday, I hope someday I can,
And never leave the outport, St. Anthony, Newfoundland.
My hometown don't have big malls or buildings a mile high,
With factories going night and day spewing smog up in the sky;
The people there are friendly and will lend a helping hand,
To anyone who needs it, any race or creed or clan.
But I'm going back someday, I hope someday I can,
And never leave the outport, St. Anthony, Newfoundland.
But I'm going back someday, I hope someday I can,
And never leave the outport, St. Anthony, Newfoundland.
Yes I'm going back someday, I hope someday I can,
And listen to the music of good old Newfoundland.
[spoken:] two, three, four....
[Instrumental]
