Alan Doyle Back Home On The Island
Back home on the island
People are remembering a better day
It used to be a place where the fishermen gathered
In their oilskins on the bay
All the tired nights 'round a warm wood stove
And that old sou'wester how she really drove
Into every harbour and every cove
Like the devil outside your door
Back home on the island
Peoplе are watching the sun go down
On what used to bе a mighty good fishing ground
It'll never be the same again
‘Cause all the trawlers came and they picked it clean
What was left of the pickings was a little too lean
Now Lukey's old boat is just a pale shade of green
That's laying upon the sand
And if you think that's a joke
Well let me tell you, brother
That I don't see nothing to laugh about
You better get out while you think you still can
I hear they got a few jobs left on the mainland
Back home on the island
People awaken to another day
They're thinking that there's got to be a better way
Than just drawing that welfare pay
And all the kids are at school so they don't get fooled
And they won't be depending on those fishing tools
They'll do ‘em just as good as any golden rule
After everything's said and done
So you go downtown and you stand and stare
While you chug-a-lug a mug of that Canadian beer
And you laugh out loud like you were some kinda lucky man
You keep on moving in droves to the mainland
Back home on the island
People are remembering a better day
It used to be a place where the fishermen gathered
Now it's only memories
We can all drink a toast to the boys on the hill
‘Cause they didn't give a damn and they never will
But they lived here then and they'll be living here still
Just watching that ocean roar
