Print This Page#02485 Print This Page
Tried sleeping, kept waking, and anticipating
How it would be when my time was at hand;
I'll walk to the gallows, without a look downward,
And I'll smile at the hangman if I can still stand.
If I could wake in the morning to accordions playing
Harbour Le Cou or Road To The Isles;
I'd make peace with my Maker and rest in the comfort
Of dreams that can travel 'cross thousands of miles.
To sit on the banks of that lonely old river
That bubbles and babbles and courses on by;
To lie in a meadow and gaze at the heavens
Till the last tinge of sunlight is leaving the sky.
My heart's in my hometown reliving my childhood,
Safely encircled by matronly arms;
But they'll never reach me in this dreary prison,
And they're no longer able to keep me from harm.
To sit on the banks of that lonely old river
That bubbles and babbles and courses on by;
To lie in a meadow and gaze at the heavens
Till the last tinge of sunlight is leaving the sky.
The reverend just left me with words from the bible,
How one only reaps from the seeds he has sown;
I'll go with his blessing and thoughts of my homeland,
My own piece of heaven, my Newfoundland home.
So, tell everybody I'm coming back home.
