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I left home at fifteen with nowhere to go,
Cried just like a baby when I turned off that gravel road;
But I heard lots of stories back in Newfoundland,
If you wanna be somebody: "Go west, young man."
Well, I've worked in a fishing boat, now I work in a mine,
And like the fool that I've become, I can't tell day from night;
What a man would do for money, he wouldn't do for love,
Only rats live underground, diggin' in the mud.
But I'm too old to quit right now and I'm too young to stay,
No one else would want me if I quit my job today;
And there's a million rats out there, livin' all over the land,
Waitin' for someone to tell them: "Go west, young man."
It's not only time that makes a man grow old,
It's missin' out on livin' when he's dying and he knows;
But he's just got a few more years, then hello Newfoundland,
And he'll tell everyone back home: "Don't go west, young man."
Not one single story I ever heard was right,
'Cause I was already someone once upon a time;
But don't tell no more stories; don't say: "Go west, young man,"
'Cause I spent a lifetime searchin' for what I left back in Newfoundland.
But I'm too old to quit right now and I'm too young to stay,
No one else would want me if I quit my job today;
And there's a million rats out there, livin' all over the land,
Waitin' for someone to tell them: "Go west, young man."
They're waitin' for someone to tell them: "Go west, young man."
