Take a walk with me a little, share a glass of wine
Take me back, these rocky shores are calling
Take me back to my Western boat
Take me back to where we started
Take me home to Mayo across the Irish Sea
Take me, take me down to the river
Talking to an old friend I haven't seen in years
Tall grow the rushes and the tops of them small
Tell me a ghost story tonight, my darlin'
Ten little turrs in the freezer is better than a hundred in the bay
Ten long hours to the keeler is more than a man can stand
Ten years ago, on a cold dark night
Ten years ago, since Jack and Joe
Thanks and praise, for our days
That's another day gone by, son, close your eyes
The 12 Elan goes bang, bang, bang
The alarm clock's ringing to wecome the morn
The autumn days are here again and the night winds chilly blow
The autumn leaves are falling, falling on the ground,
The back of the winter is broken
The bay is my home
The beauty of the White Star Line, the Titanic, sailed the seas
The bicycle is all the rage on every street and town
The boys they left their Newfoundland and went to Oshawa
The Block House flag is up today to welcome home the stranger
The blowing gale and the raging sea
The brave Eliza spread her sails that morning in the bay
The bride wore a floor length gown of nylon lace
The bright sun a-shining and blue skies a-pining
The Bruce was bound for Louisburg the night being dark and drear
The Brunswick Street moon shone down upon your face
The Bullet it is gone
The candle flickers towards its last
The children they play on the beaches
The chill of the cove where the north wind bites at the snowdrifts piled high
The church door was opened as I stepped inside
The city's grim snow flakes swirl my memory
The coat she wore still lies upon the bed
The colour of amber is my love's hair
The common man don't count at all these days
The crave for strikes is getting hot with boys, as we can see
The Diamond is a ship, me boys, for the Davis Strait she's bound
The difference in jobs now they're giving away
The DJ's used to play my music back in history
The drums and fifes are beating, I can no longer stay
The Dutchman's not the kind of man
The Eagle has fallen into the sea
The Eagle, with her gallant crew, in port has just arrived
The eighteenth day of December last in Torbay we did lay
The eighteenth of April, being the date of the year
The eleventh of June, boys, our anchors we weighed
The elf-knight sits on yonder hill
The everyday stress of just stayin' alive
The fairy lights are shining bright upon my Christmas tree
The first day I saw him I'll never forget
The first good joy that Mary had
The first rays of sun leaning over the rim
The first time ever I saw your face
The fish are all caught and the squids are all jigged
The fog is lifting from this city
The fondest wish I ever had since the day that I was weaned (Ryan's Fancy)
The fondest wish that ever I had since the day that I was weaned (Great Big Sea)
The game is all gone from the Witless Bay Barrens
The Garden of Eden has vanished, they say
The ghost of Dana Bradley is standing sadly on the road to home
The girls are asking day and night, "Why don't the men propose?"
The girls of this place that live along the shore
The green hills of New Bay, though far, far away
The Gypsy rover came over the hill
The hands on the clock keep turning around
The harbour is empty, the ships have all gone
The harbour is empty, there's fog in the air
The harbour lights are gleaming
The hills were alive with wildflowers
The hillside was a patchwork quilt
The holly and the ivy, when they are both full grown
The holly green, the ivy green
The iceberg she stood there right on the sea
The judge said stand up lad and dry up your tears
The ladies of the harem of the court of King Caractacus
The lamp is burning low upon my table top
The lark in the morning she rises off her nest
The latest sensation, I think, it's the dude you will see at the rink
The life that's lived by the draggerman I'd like to tell to you
The lighthouse lures the old dissenters
The lights are dim, the music's playing
The lights are shining in the harbour once again this time of year
The lights are shining what a scene, as we talk to their machine
The lights in the taverns are shining bright
The lord said to the lady, now I'm going away
The lorries roll through St John Street and stir up the dust
The lupins are dead now but they did bloom well now
The merry-go-round on Monday night will start just after tea
The men they are a rare breed who founded this great land
The minstrel boy to the war is gone
The moon shines bright on the bay tonight
The moon shone bright at twelve that night
The moon was bright one starry night, forgotten never shall be
The moon was out,the stars were bright
The moon was shining brightly
The Moratorium, the Moratorium
The morning sun it shines, on the harbour and the bays
The mountain is gone, we dug it down
The Nerissa from the Red Cross Line from Harvey's wharf did sail
The night that Paddy Murphy died I never will forget (Johnny Burke)
The night that Paddy Murphy died is a night I'll never forget (GBS)
The night that Paddy Murphy died is a night I'll never forget (Triskelle)
The night was clear, the stars were shinin'
The Northern Lights of old Aberdeen
The northern tip of Newfoundland as far as you can see
The ocean is a fortune for the people by the sea
The ocean wears the rocks to sand
The office was just open when a man quite worn in years
The old hometown looks the same (Joan Morrissey Parody)
The old home town looks the same (Richard Woodrow)
The old man he sits by the ocean
The old man on the headland is looking out to sea
The old man was pacing the floor up and down
The old man's boat was a sight to behold
The open sea hath mercy, but the thund'ring surf hath none
The outboards are all silent and the bay is nice and calm
The photograph hangs in my mind
The pink, the lily, and the blooming rose
The pink the rose of England shows
The postman delivered the letter
The rattlin' bog, the bog down in the valley-O
The reception just now 'tis the style all around
The Robin Hood sack underwear
The rocking chair creeks as it moves to and fro
The rugged shores of Newfoundland
The savage loves his native shore
The school room was decked out with holly and boughs
The sea has lots of mysteries that lie within her realm
The seagulls are calling and the wind is in the sails
The ship is ready to sail away
The ship is sailing o'er the ocean
The ship it sails in half an hour to cross the broad Atlantic
The shores of Fife in Scotland in a little village where
The sky was clear, the mornin' fair, not a breath came over the sea
The smell as the fishermen barked their cod traps
The soft part covers up her footsteps
The sound of the ocean is calling to me
The spirits are calling, it's time to come home
The spring of ninety-seven boys
The spring-time of the year is come
The stormy winds of winter intend to frost and snow
The story is told in big Johnny's face
The story of this world of ours
The streams of lovely Nancy are divided in three parts
The stuff that makes up legends is born of yesterday
The summer sun shone bright that day
The summer time is coming (Ryan's Fancy)
The summer time is comin' (Frankie McPeake)
The summer time is coming (The Cormiers)
The sun in the morning used to call me to the day
The sun is brightly shining, the sky is azure blue
The sun it comes up on the green fields of Newfoundland
The sun must set to rise
The sun shines first on Newfoundland and Labrador
The sun still shines on summer mornings
The sun was fast declining down evening's valley shade
The sun was setting in the west
The sun was setting in the west mixed with twinkling showers of hail
The sun was shining the night that we parted
The sun will shine through your window pane
The sun's comin' up, it's gonna be a beautiful day
The sun's gone down for many a cove
The sun's setting beams on the sea were reflecting
The TEA brochure came, in other words it said
The tears they rolled o'er cheeks so pale of mothers and of boys
The thirteenth day of May, b'ys, it was a sad sight
The thrilling tale we heard last week is in our mem'ries yet
The times are rough, and it's gettin' tough
The times bain't what the used to be 'bout fifty ye'rs or so ago
The times have changed, the trains have all gone
The tough dirty miner works hard for his pay
The tree was growing tall and the leaves were growing green
The trees are turning early and the hills are all ablaze
The trout liar is come on the train, and now look out for news
The values we all cherish
The Vinland shores of Newfoundland
The violets were scenting the woods, Maggie
The violets were scenting the woods, Nora
The warship had landed and I came ashore
The waterfront still feels the same
The weather is against me and the wind's blowing hard
The wife she gets right vicious
The wind sweeps 'cross the open bay and waves pound on the shore
The wind whips the smoke from the chimneys
The winding roads and forests, the rivers and the sand
The windows are shuttered, the grasses are high
The winter it is past and the summer's come at last
The winter snow is a child's delight
The winter soon will be past, by's
The winter wind is howling, and the woodstove is blood red
The winter's ice clings to cliff, to beach an empty shell
The winter's night has such a bite
The world today can be a scary place
The year was 1778
The year was 1978
The years, the years have come and gone
Then fare ye well, sweet Donegal, the Rosses and Gweedore
Then here's to the lads of the Maple Leaf Squadron
There are little brown bottles that used to hold beer
There are many tales and stories been passed down through the days
There are many versions of the rubber boot song
There are memories of my childhood in a village by the sea
There are mem'ries of family
There are people who look for some inspiration
There are sober men aplenty, and drunkards barely twenty
There are things in this world that are more precious than gold
There are young soldiers who lie far across the sea
There aren't many men as lucky as me to have one as big as mine
There came a call from overseas for lumbering men to go
There dwells a wife by the Northern Gate
There goes my sunshine, she just walked out
There hangs an old sou'wester
There is a lass in Bethlehem Green
There is a little place of heaven that I long to see
There is a little valley not far from Goose Bay (The Flummies)
There is a man in Hembrick town, a man of high degree
There is a man in our town, he is a man of great renown
There is a ship in Harbour Grace it's been there for a while
There is a valley not far from Goose Bay (Eric Waterman)
There is a young maiden, she lives all alone
There is an ale-house in this town
There is an ancient party at the other end of town (GBS)
There is an ancient party at the other end of town (Johnny Burke)
There is fire in the lower hold
There is not in this wide world a valley so sweet
There is one class of men in this country that never is mentioned
There is trouble tonight in Newfoundland
There is two young girls are going around
There lived a girl named Mary Vickery down in old Kentucky
There lived a lass in yonder dale and down in yonder glen
There once was a swagman camped in a billabong
There once was a man who came from Kinsale
There once was a roving gypsy and he came from o'er the plain
There once was two Irishmen from Ireland came over
There stands an old building down near the shore
There was a brave young high'man and the story we will tell
There was a frog lived in the well
There was a lady in the east
There was a lady in the east northeast
There was a lady from New York
There was a man named Joey Long
There was a rich merchant in London did dwell
There was a time I never thought that love would come my way
There was an old bo's'n in Dover did dwell
There was an old couple lived under an 'ill
There was an old farmer in London did dwell
There was an old farmer in Yorkshire did dwell (Peacock)
There was an old farmer in Yorkshire did dwell (DT)
There was an old farmer lived under a hill
There was an old farmer who lived down in Spain
There was an old lady in our town
There was an old man and he lived in the west
There was an old man lived over the hill
There was an old(wee) man of the Hebridean race
There was an old woman lived under a hill
There was Johnny McEldoo and McGhee and me
There was laughter and joy on that fine summer's evening
There was once a charming lad whose name was Harry Dunn
There was once a noble whaling ship that came from Bristol Bay
There was once a young captain who followed the sea
There was one road up and there was one road down
There was three jolly butchermen
There were ten of us there on the moonlit quay
There were three brothers in merry Scotland
There were three ra'ens sat on a tree
There were three sisters lived alone
There were two sisters, Jane and Mary Ann (Leach)
There were two sisters, Jane and Mary Ann (Peacock)
There'll never be a lady like Mom
There're sober men and plenty
There's a band tonight down in Shamrock City
There's a bouncing girl in Fogo that I am going to see
There's a cold north wind coming off the bay
There's a craggy old face in a rock wall
There's a day that's held most dear by everyone that's here
There's a dear spot in Ireland, it's a spot of great fame
There's a dear little spot that means so much to me
There's a fiery bunch of boys they call Siochána
There's a full moon tonight, magic in the air
There's a girl in St. John's city I'm going out to see
There's a girl in St. John's Harbour that I'm longing for to see
There's a green and white house looking out at the sea
There's a house with one blue light
There's a lady on her way, she's steaming in the bay
There's a land of boundless beauty
There's a little bit of country, boys, I haven't seen in years
There's a little town called Island Cove, not far from Harbour Grace
There's a neat little lass and her name is Mari Mac
There's a night we will remember
There's a noble fleet of sealers
There's a noble fleet of whalers a-sailing from Dundee (Gerald S. Doyle)
There's a noble fleet of whalers sailing from Dundee (Paddy Gearin)
There's a party down at the Harbour Lounge (Stan McDonald)
There's a party down at the Harbour Lounge (Wayne Morgan)
There's a piercing wintry breeze blowing through the budding trees
There's a piper in the valley playing old familiar tunes
There's a place that's dear to me
There's a place where Mother Nature got it all together
There's a quiet little village in Bonavist' Bay
There's a schooner in the bay
There's a ship in our town, the Liberty's a dock
There's a silent place near Gander town
There's a skiff on the landwash, she's all corked and painted
There's a song that I hear every morning
There's a spot far away we all know well
There's a storm on the horizon
There's a story I know you've heard before, but I must tell again
There's a tear in your eye
There's a tree in the greenwood I love best of all
There's a wedding in the chapel and the bride is oh so happy
There's a white Christmas in my hometown
There's a winding road that leads to Cape St. Mary
There's an argument unfinished 'twixt his lordship and the judge
There's an island off the East Coast
There's an old car wreck rustin' where my place used to be
There's an old-fashion cottage which stands in a square
There's an old fishing schooner in the harbour
There's an old old story that everybody knows
There's another big wedding in store for tonight
There's forty thousand o'er my head the wolf is at the door
There's going to be a happy time I want you all to know
There's gold in the channel when the sun lights the sea
There's lots of fish in Bonavist' Harbour
There's lots of music on the go
There's magic on the corner, a smile for everyone
There's many a tragic story in our annals oft' we told
There's many a young man leaves his home
There's no need to feel lonely, there's no need to feel sad
There's no place like home, no ground as fair
There's queer things in Dublin between Howth and Crumlin
There's rain and fog, a cool breeze that keeps constantly blowin'
There's rum in the hold of the Nellie J Banks
There's seldom nights that I'm going to ramble
There's some that's bound for New York town
There's ten cents in my pocket, and no injuries to show
There's too many heartaches, too much pain
There's young folks and hoary involved in this story
There've been so many, girls I have known
These days I feel a change
These that live in cities are like sheep penned in a fold
These women here in Newfoundland, this place we call the rock
They built the ship Titanic to sail the ocean blue
They came across from Ireland from England and Scotland
They come down in the morning close to the sea
They fought and some died for their homeland
They gave me the job of the sheriff
They go down with their nets to the shore
They keep talking of the things they'd do
They met in the summer of ninety-one
They put a parking lot on a piece of land
They sat at each end of the couch
They sing songs of London and Kentucky and Spain (The Flummies)
They sing songs of London, Kentucky, and Spain (Eric Waterman)
They talk about tradesmen, mechanics and such
They were squeaky clean when they arrived
They were very very happy, their marriage was a gem
They'll come from as far as Whitehorse, and as close as Sydney Mines
They're outport people with outport ways
This bloke I know came rolling home shickered as he could be
This cramped city life is not right for a man
This day a year ago, he was rolling in the snow
This is a ballad of a sad café
This is my island, this is your island, too
This is of an old sailor who lived out in the bay
This is the day the fishermen like
This is the place where the fishermen gather
This is the saddest tale, my friend, that you will ever know
This island of ours is a paradise lost
This island out here in the ocean
This land is your land, this land is my land
This, my first tribute for I've loved you so long
This old man, he's got one
This old pickan' he went one
This song I've been singing I'll now sing to you
This song's for every Newfie boy
This village draws me
This world is either spinnin' way too fast or way too slow
This year I'm having Christmas dinner with me buddy Sam
This year when I sat happy birthday, darling
Those long winter nights the fire is burning bright
Those that I loved as I assure them I'll never be content
Those women sure were hard, not one was left unscarred
Though her hair has turned to silver
Though my sails be torn and tattered
Though the night be dark as dungeon
Three bottles a week when you feel like a root
Three fine ladies lived in a bow'ry
Three fishers went sailing out into the west
Three guys on the west coast went poaching a moose
Through the eyes of a child I'm seeing
Through the fog and the mist, through the rain and the sleet
Thus, I am sad and lonely down in the distant west
Tie me down, oh, tie me down
Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin' Street
Tim Finnegan lived on Rankin Street
Time is turning, burning underground
Timothy Murphy kept the pledge for nearly fourteen year
Tiny feet making plodding sounds
'Tis of a beauty fair oh, and a shepherd's daughter dear
'Tis of a brave young highwayman this story I will tell
'Tis of a comely maiden living by a riverside
'Tis of a jolly bo's'n in London town did dwell
'Tis of a merchant lived in this town
'Tis of a rich knight, who dreamèd a dream
'Tis of a young maiden this story I'll tell
'Tis of an old farmer in London did dwell
Tishialuk girls are neat and tidy
To be a part of this great land should be the pride of any man
To Cuba's coast we are bound, me boys
To Harvey's I'll start and to Bowring's I'll go
To land men all, on ye I call, I hope you will attend
To purchase a basket was Jack's first intent
To see the Pan American, I went to Buffalo
To the county that's known as the kingdom
To the Riverhead la'nchin' on Jubilee Day (Peacock)
To the Riverhead la'nchin' on Jubilee Day (Leach)
Today as I looked out my window
Today has been my birthday, and tonight I should be glad
Today I placed a white rose on the table
Today I returned to my homeland, the place of my birth
Today I'm so lonesome and feeling so sad
Tom Fewer took his clothes, bid his mother adieu
Tom Fuher took his clothes, from his mother's house he went
Tonight a teardrop fills my eye when I recall my home
Tonight I'm dreamin' 'bout a girl I once knew
Tonight near the foam in my old weathered home
Tonight the west moon hangs over the harbour
Too many dreams, too much laughter
Too many people and too many towns
Took my gal to a fancy ball, it was a social hop
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Toora-loora-loora-lay, Christ the King was born today
Torbay b'ys gone in the woods
Toronto's underneath an inch of snow
Trapped in my kitchen while a storm blows
Tried sleeping, kept waking, and anticipating
Trout River living on my mind
True Thomas lay on Huntlie Bank
Tshima nantem nantem minuataman
'Twas a cold winter's night as the tempest was snarling
'Twas a gay Spanish maid, at the age of sixteen
'Twas a November storm, not a ship dared the waters
'Twas all on a cold winter's night
'Twas down by St. John's Harbour where first I chanced to stray
'Twas early in the spring when I decide to go
'Twas getting late up in September
'Twas in a place called Wild Bay where we was distressèd so
'Twas in eighteen eighty-one when the railway first began
'Twas in the city of Wexford a merchant he did dwell
'Twas in the month of September, the date I cannot give
'Twas in the summer season, in the lovely month of May
'Twas in the town of Wexford they sentenced him to die
'Twas in the year of ninety-two, just after the Big Fire
'Twas in the year of thirty-four
'Twas just a year ago today I left my emerald isle
'Twas just after Christmas, I remember the year
'Twas just before the last great charge
'Twas late, 'twas late one evening in the lovely month of May
'Twas of a jolly boatswain, in London town did dwell
'Twas of a lady fair, a shepherd's daughter dear
'Twas of a lady in the west counteree
'Twas of a wealthy captain who lived in our port
'Twas on a cold winter's evening, the very first fall of snow
'Twas on a summer's morning as I roved o'er the moss
'Twas on one foggy winter's night, and a foggy night it was
'Twas over at the Waterford now just one month ago
'Twas the night of the trip and the weather was fair
'Twas there I had to learn reading and writing
'Twas twenty-five or thirty years since Jack first saw the light
'Twas winter down the icy Gulf
Twelve months have passed now once again it's that time of the year
Twenty-eight days in Voisey's Bay is a long, long time, I know
Twenty-one me last birthday, just entered into life
Two drummers sat at dinner in a grand hotel one day
Two gentlemen went walking down the street one day
Two Irishmen and a Newfie once went out for recreation
Two island swans mated for life
Two jinkers in our harbour dwell, adventuresome and plucky
Two jolly sailors went out walking
Two little shoes that she wore on her feet
Two nice little boys were going to school
Two recruiting sergeants came to the CLB
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