Print This Page#02957 Print This Page
You can travel the earth from the time of your birth,
And walk on the far, far-off loam;
But no matter where you go there's one thing you'll know,
You're sure to find someone from home.
You'll see other Canucks out there makin' the big bucks,
They'll be seen in each harbour and bight;
But there are millions of them and I'll tell ya, my friend,
At roamin' they can't get it right.
You'll know Newfoundlanders in heaven,
They'll be the ones who want to go home;
Not content to be there or just anywhere,
Except for the place they were born.
Can't imagine a place that they'd rather grace,
So they don't settle down, they just roam;
You'll know Newfoundlanders in heaven,
They'll be the ones who want to go home.
The difference in us, sure right off the cuff,
Is we'll always be Newfie inside;
We're not like other men who don't go back home again,
When we go to a place we just bide.
Till the time it will come for us to go run,
Back to where we grew as a child;
No matter how far or wherever we are,
We're bound to return to our isle.
You'll know Newfoundlanders in heaven,
They'll be the ones who want to go home;
Not content to be there or just anywhere,
Except for the place they were born.
Can't imagine a place that they'd rather grace,
So they don't settle down, they just roam;
You'll know Newfoundlanders in heaven,
They'll be the ones who want to go home.
Can't imagine a place that they'd rather grace,
So they don't settle down, they just roam;
You'll know the Newfoundlanders in heaven,
They'll be the ones who want to go home.
They'll be the ones who want to go home.
