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At the end of the road in a town by the sea,
There's an empty fish plant that meant the world to me;
And there's no smell at all, no smoke from its stack,
For the plant has closed down, is it ever coming back?
And the rumours that I hear are like waves on the shore,
Two years have gone by, how many more?
The old folks have resigned with a faith that's unknown,
And the young show no concern, know big enough where to go;
There's a lost generation that's caught up in between,
Their future looks so bleak, the year they will believe.
And the rumours that I hear are like waves on the shore,
Two years have gone by, how many more?
All the fishings has shut down the only life I know,
Now I must decide, should I stay or should I go;
They'll offer you a trade and they'd educate you, too,
But I am at the age and I don't know what to do.
And the rumours that I hear are like waves on the shore,
Two years have gone by, how many more?
There's a time for to think, there's a time for to do,
My time is running out, my options they are few;
And the rumours that I hear are like waves on the shore,
Two years have gone by, God knows there will be more.
Recorded by Stuffed Squid of La Scie, NL (Well Done Liar!, trk#2, 1992, SWC Productions, English Harbour West, recorded at Sim's Studio, Belleoram, NL).
From the Dictionary Of Newfoundland English:
Waterhaul - pulling of a fish-net or trap to the surface with no fish enclosed in the device; any fruitless trip or enterprise.
