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Now the hardbread's gettin' lonely, soakin' there all by itself.
Says Brian, "Weigh the jiggers and goodbye!"
Now the only way to get one for the pot for Sunday morn,
Is to go out there and jig one on the sly.
'Twas a time when we could boast about our favourite good old scoff,
Fish 'n' brewis was known to people far and near;
And I'm sure that when they said we weren't allowed to fish no more,
Every dry eye in the country shed a tear.
How good it was to come home to a feed of fish 'n' brewis,
With scrunchions fat and onions boilin' hot: Mmm mmm;
But the ocean's like a desert: it's been scraped so many times,
That there's hardly a single codfish to be got.
Now the hardbread's gettin' lonely, soakin' there all by itself.
Says Brian, "Weigh the jiggers and goodbye!"
Now the only way to get one for the pot for Sunday morn,
Is to go out there and jig one on the sly.
It's a shame that the common Joe can't jig a dozen fish,
To split and dry and put in for the fall;
There's no one really sure now if the cod stock will come back,
'Cause the last one that I got was pretty small.
Now me brother in the mainland used to come home every year,
We'd always go out jiggin' that's for sure;
But the letter that he wrote me when he heard about the news,
Said he's not sure if he's comin' back no more.
Now the hardbread's gettin' lonely, soakin' there all by itself.
Says Brian, "Weigh the jiggers and goodbye!"
Now the only way to get one for the pot for Sunday morn,
Is to go out there and jig one on the sly.
Yeah, the hardbread's gettin' lonely, soakin' there all by itself.
Says Brian, "Weigh the jiggers and goodbye!"
Now the only way to get one for the pot for Sunday morn,
Is to go out there and jig one on the sly.
Yeah, the only way to get one for the pot for Sunday morn,
Is to go out there and jig one on the sly.
