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These women here in Newfoundland, this place we call the rock,
Aren't used to fancy trimmings in their food or on their frock;
They raise a family and make a house into a home,
And this is not an easy chore for those who are alone.
So, raise your glasses high, all ye men of Newfoundland,
And drink a toast to the salt and backbone of our land;
They give their love and they're the life that keeps our isle alive,
So, here's to all the girlfriends and here's to all the wives.
Along the shore most families have ten or twelve to feed,
And now and then there's always one who comes along in need;
He's never turned away although the pantry's kind of low,
Her magic in the kitchen is a wonderment to know.
So, raise your glasses high, all ye men of Newfoundland,
And drink a toast to the salt and backbone of our land;
They give their love and they're the life that keeps our isle alive,
So, here's to all the girlfriends and here's to all the wives.
Some watch their men go out to sea, never to return,
While others go from shore to shore their livelihood to earn;
No matter if they win or lose, they're always there on hand,
To help their men in times of need, these girls of Newfoundland.
So, hold your glasses high, all ye men of Newfoundland,
And drink a toast to the salt and backbone of our land;
They give their love and they're the life that keeps our isle alive,
So, here's to all the girlfriends and here's to all the wives.
Their men are men who stand up for the things they think are right,
They'll drink a beer with any man, or any man they'll fight;
They'll stand up for their honour, and they'll stand up for their land,
But they never do a thing unless their women say they can.
So, hold your glasses high, all ye men of Newfoundland,
And drink a toast to the salt and backbone of our land;
They give their love and they're the life that keeps our isle alive,
So, here's to all the girlfriends and here's to all the wives.
